Duat Diaries
by Black Knightmon
Summary: Five children from Egypt find themselves flung into the Digital World. Set in Lord Archive's Diaries Universe.
1. First Hour

**Duat Diaries**

**Disclaimer: Digimon does not belong to me. This fic is set in Lord Archive's Diaries Universe and is written with permission.**

**Chapter one: First hour**

With slow staggering steps the small mouse made his way across the sand. Worry and fear gnawed at his heart, but he could no longer find the strength to run. He had been running for a long time, but he was nowhere near where he wanted to be and still too close to where he was running from. It was stupid to just run out into the desert, he knew that now, but at the time there really was no other choice for him.

Thoughts, memories, feelings, all were swarming through his head. The longer he was out under the sun the harder it became to think coherently. His steps were beginning to falter, but he knew he had to keep going. Even through all the chaos in his mind his fear kept him going. Fear for what they were going to do to him if he was found. Whatever happened, he had to get to the Lady.

The Lady, thinking of her also made him think of where he grew up. It was a strange place for someone like him, but it had been his home. A temple along the great river populated mostly by cats. If only he was there now, he thought, if only he hadn't left. But he had left on the request of his Lady to work on some sort of construction project and see what it was all about.

No one ever figured him to be a spy and truthfully him least of all, not even in his wildest nightmares did he ever do something so potentially dangerous. Now, walking through the desert alone, he truly regretted ever having said yes to the assignment. He still vividly remembered when he had first set foot on the construction site.

* * *

"And what do we have here? Some kind of vermin perhaps, out to prey on our storages perhaps?" 

A burly digimon asked, no, more like demanded. If he remembered his instructions correctly this was the foreman, his new boss. The large Cyclomon lowered his head straight down to the ground and squinted his eye as if he couldn't see the small pinkish blot otherwise. The dragon exhaled from somewhere underneath his facial mask, a gust so strong it knocked the small mouse off his feet. Seeing this Cyclomon laughed, a booming sound that was nearly too much to bear for the smaller digimon.

"I-I'm the new recruit," Chuumon squeaked, "I w-wish to work here."

"Do you now?" Cyclomon said after he had finally stopped laughing, "And what would you do? Gnaw at trees to get us wood? Transport blocks or perhaps make them?"

He laughed again, gesturing at the stones used in the construction of the pyramid. They were many times the size of Chuumon and weighed more than a thousand of the mouse digimon put together. They both knew Chuumon could do nothing with those, except getting splattered if one should fall on him.

"I'm small," Chuumon said, gathering his courage. He was about to capitalize on the trait that had made him the perfect candidate for this mission, "I can go places others can't and fix what is wrong there."

"So, you want to work with the other runts," Cyclomon said, sounding slightly condescending. The larger digimon obviously looked down on those that did not do the 'real work', though they were just as necessary as the larger builders.

"Yes, sir," Chuumon said meekly. It was better to grovel now so that he would not be noticed later. The dragon was eyeing him sceptically and for a moment Chuumon thought that he would be denied.

"Fine," Cyclomon shrugged," report to that pansy over there."

* * *

Despite his earlier reservations his new accommodations weren't all that bad and neither was his job. It was odd that this whole project existed, though. From what Chuumon could see they were actually building a second pyramid around another. He knew whose pyramid it was, everyone in the region did. 

It was the main temple for the order of priests that served Pharaohmon, the ruler of this part of the digital world. It wasn't a necessary construction, for the order wasn't large enough to occupy even the smaller pyramid. He knew that better than anyone on the construction force, having used much of his time to scout around the place.

All of his questions on the matter were either met with complete ignorance or some very longwinded story about the honour of the priests and their service to Pharaohmon, the ruler of the area. By the time that was finished you'd already forgotten you had a question for them anyway and after hearing the speech at least five times Chuumon had quite enough and simply stopped asking. This was probably what they were going for in the first place he reckoned.

Afraid that his questionings were drawing too much undesirable attention to him, he kept a low profile for a week to see if anyone was on to him. He needn't have worried; many of the workers had been asking the same questions, so he didn't stand out at all.

During his stay, which was turning out to last far longer than he had originally thought, Chuumon got increasingly homesick and increasingly worried that his incursions into the pyramid were discovered. And all the while he found nothing of interest. He would probably already have tried to leave out of sheer boredom and futility if it hadn't been for the few friends he had made in his shift, especially with a young Armadimon.

The two often worked together and, aside from the time Chuumon spend on his other job, were often seen together off duty as well. Because of the lack of progress Chuumon soon stopped his espionage and simply fell into a steady pattern that repeated itself every single day.

Till one day that all changed with the arrival of the High Priest himself and with him some very dire news. Pharaohmon had disappeared; some even whispered that he was killed. For security reasons Anubimon had returned to his pyramid for the first time since Chuumon had started working there. As much as he hated doing it, he knew his quiet routine was now over.

* * *

That night, far after the stroke of midnight, the little Chuumon snuck out of his dorm. He had this nasty feeling in the pit of stomach that something was going to go wrong. Getting through the outer construction area was still easy. Without any difficulty he reached the new pyramid and entered through one of the small maintenance vents. Progress had been fast in building the place; nearly half of the new enclosing pyramid was already completed. 

The structure was odd and confusing, but after a while Chuumon had figured out what they were building. He, as one of the few that saw every part of the construction site, knew that they weren't really building new accommodations for the priests. It seemed more like they were building some kind of defence perimeter to shield the inner sanctuary from any attack. A lot of what was build was useless unless it was used as a trap.

If he hadn't suspected that his lady was already aware of what was really being build he would have left long ago. But it was the reason behind the construction that he was investigating and to that question he had no answer. That was why he was there now and not lying in his bed waiting for the blistering sun to come up.

The inner pyramid was different from the new one. There were still places that were rigged with some sort of trap, mostly the main entrance and few hallways and chambers after that, but the majority of the structure wasn't. At least Chuumon couldn't see it if there was.

The closer he came to what he knew to be Anubimon's most inner sanctuary, the darker and quieter the place became. Even at this time of night, the corridors were usually buzzing with life. Well, in a manner of speaking, since Bakemon weren't really alive. The ghosts were part of the guard, as were other undead digimon. It fit, the entire priestly order was devoted to death and the high priest Anubimon most of all.

All too soon the large doors leading to Anubimon's inner sanctuary came into view. They were open, the large slabs of stone pressed against the walls on either side. If they were closed they would have shown an image of a jackal, standing on two feet and carrying with him a scale. He would stand in a field of fire, only the flames were spectral hands reaching out to the scale hoping to change the balance in their favour.

The inner chamber was large and circular, going down towards the centre in large steps. A pool of clear water lay in a basin at the centre of the circle and at the other side of the room stood a large throne, the seat of the High Priest.

Chuumon sighed in relief, the usual Bakemon guards were nowhere in sight, giving him the opportunity to approach the entrance of the room. Carefully he peered inside, hoping that he wouldn't be seen standing in the door opening.

The High Priest stood at the foot of the basin, talking to an image in the water. Anubimon's very presence was nothing short of regal; his tall form possessing an elegance Chuumon couldn't hope to match. Being so small grated on him sometimes, but until he evolved there was nothing he could do about it.

"What have you to report my servant, "Anubimon said, his voice sounding cold, arrogant and powerful. For a minute Chuumon's heart nearly stopped beating out of fear that the god beast was talking to him. His anxiety didn't subdue when another voice, this one coming from the pool of water, answered Anubimon.

"We have arrived at the designated location," the voice said. There was a hollow quality to it, whether it was an effect of speaking through the pool or if the voice always sounded like that Chuumon didn't know. It ceased to matter too when the voice continued.

"And we're fairly certain we found the entrance to the temple. It won't be long till the first of the artefacts has been recovered."

"Excellent, and you're also certain that no one knows what you are doing?" Anubimon questioned, the tone of his voice making perfectly clear how he felt should the answer be no.

"Yes sir, no one knows we're here. We of the priests know how to move undetected, and besides, people are too worried to leave their homes. If something could happen to someone of Pharaohmon's level, who's to say it won't happen to them."

"So, our people are scared are they," Anubimon scoffed, "how typical of them. Of course they know who they have to turn to now for protection?"

"Yes, sir," the voice answered dutifully, "they know that you are the only one powerful enough to save them all from darkness."

"Quite right," Anubimon said, sounding vaguely amused.

"Now all we need is a darkness to make things complete and we're all set. Nobody will ever know," the voice laughed, caught up in the moment. In a flash all amusement was gone from Anubimon's voice and stature.

"As long as you keep your mouth shut they won't."

"Y-yes sir, of course sir."

"Now, now, don't be so alarmed," Anubimon said, the threatening tone removed from his voice, "you know better than saying things you're not supposed to in public. There's nothing for you to worry about."

Chuumon gulped, trying to put everything together in his small head. What he heard here was beyond anything he had expected to hear.

His mind went back to what he heard earlier during the day. Mostly there had been confusion, but soon there was a story going around that some foreign power had targeted this region and as a first act had taken out their ruler. Now Anubimon, the most powerful digimon in the region, and the orders of priests and guards were all that stood in this power's way. They were calling him their saviour who would rescue them from darkness.

Some dissident voices also spoke of a conspiracy to get Anubimon into power, but those words were spoken hesitantly and far in between.

At first he hadn't want to believe it, but hearing Anubimon speak made him realize that a conspiracy wasn't all that farfetched.

With a shock he realized he had gotten to caught up in his own thinking that he had missed part of the conversation. As it stood it looked like they were wrapping things up. _Time to go_, Chuumon thought, while something was still distracting the priest. He had to get out of the pyramid, but more than that he had to get out of the entire construction site. He had to report what he heard, about Pharaohmon, about those artefacts and about the suspicious behaviour of Anubimon.

"Hey, what's this?" A ghastly voice in the hallway behind Chuumon said. Caught like a deer in a headlight the mouse didn't move for several seconds, then he just dropped all caution and bolted. He could envision Anubimon coming up behind him, but it didn't happen. The Bakemon coming down the hall also weren't fast enough to catch him. With his heart nearly exploding in his chest he found himself on the outside of the pyramid, but he knew he wasn't in the clear yet. Not till he was as far away from the place as possible.

* * *

Chuumon coughed up sand, falling to his knees on the hot desert floor. His body ached all over and he could barely stay conscious. The trip down memory lane no longer helped to fuel his muscles, there was no way he was going to make another step. He had to rest before going on even with the heat beating him down. For hours, all through what remained of the night and far into the morning, he had been running. Closing his eyes Chuumon tried to envision himself being in a cooler place, maybe in the shade of oasis trees. 

Surprised he found that it was working, but then his eyes snapped open again. The ground beneath him was darker than it should be, but there was nothing around that could create a shadow like this. With horror his eyes shifted to the side, seeing the edge of the dark spot move away from him. _Something's above me_, he thought. It was the last thought he had before a large form descended on top of him.

* * *

The air was hot and sultry, not so different from a sky worlds apart, but the boy could not be bothered with it. After all it was almost always like this. Still it was clear to Hesire that there was something different to the air in that part of Cairo, a place he usually avoided. It was the crowd, packed together under the blistering sun that made the difference. Sweat, that's what it was, the odour of all the sweat produced by all these people. There was no wind, the air was still and so it just hung there, close to the ground. 

All around him were shops, shopkeepers and tourists, a great many tourists. That was not surprising; the Khan el-Khalili is a famous tourist attraction after all. The ancient bazaar hadn't changed much at all in six centuries. Almost anything could be found here, which was exactly the reason he had come.

But after a few hours he was still empty-handed and all he had seen were tourist traps. It was perhaps too much to hope for, finding books or other things about the past that he didn't already possess. Some things had come close at first glance, but they weren't authentic.

"Time to go," he said to himself. The crowd and smell were beginning to bug him. To his left was a side street; he almost didn't see it. If his sense of directions hadn't left him yet, taking that street, or more like alley, would save him a lot of time. Dodging some overweight tourists he entered the shadowed alley, glad to be away from the surplus of people on the streets.

* * *

On the southern outskirts of Cairo someone else was thinking the very same thing. Sitting on a rock some hundred meters from the city limits was a young girl with long black hair. She felt more at home in the quiet of nature than in the bustling human city. A slight gust of wind lifted the sand around her, forcing her to shield her eyes till it settled down again. Idly she twirled some of the sand through her fingers. 

She had only come to the city recently, her parents seeking a better state of living. And while they certainly had more than when they were still living in a small village to the south, she had felt happier there. She sighed, knowing she had to get back home soon. Sometimes she just wanted to take of into the desert and see where it took her, but she knew better than anyone that it wasn't safe to just do that unprepared. Standing up Nephthys turned back to the city, she had promised her mom she'd help out with the housekeeping

* * *

"No, don't do that!" Eboni nearly yelled at the seven year old, running over to stop him from throwing over an expensive looking vase. Not for the first time she regretted accepting to look after her niece and nephew for the day, but aside from her there was no one available. So far though they had been nothing but trouble. 

"Okay Ebi," he said meekly, but immediately took off while she was inspecting the thing for damages. Luckily there was nothing wrong with the vase. She half suspected they were only doing this to annoy her, but at their young age could still easily break something even in jest. And it was exactly that possibility that kept her playing right into their hands. It was infuriating.

"So can I play with this?" The boy was waving the remote for the TV around now. Eboni started for him again, wondering where the other little troublemaker was, when there was a scream from the other room. She completely blanched, aware only now that there were only two people in the room and that it had been the case for far too long.

"You stay here and stay out of trouble," she glared at her overactive cousin, transfixing him on the spot.

The boy nodded quickly as if able to see the thoughts about tying him up running through her head. He just smiled nervously at her and watched as his older cousin quickly moved to find his sister; after a moment he followed as well. Half the fun of having Eboni as a babysitter was riling her up, trying to see how far they could go with her. It seemed they were reaching the limit of her patience kind of early that day; she had never glared like that before. Would whatever his sister had planned in the other room really make her lose it? Still, something about that scream nagged at him; maybe she had screwed up somewhere?

Before he could enter the other room to check things out his sister was shushed out of it by an irate looking girl. Standing opposite of each other he waited for her to reveal what she had done while Eboni had already retreated back into the room, the door slammed shut.

"Uh oh," he muttered when he got a good look at her face, "You didn't really break anything did you?"

"It wasn't me," she protested at once, "the computer just started to flash and do stuff on its own."

"They aren't supposed to do that."

"I know that," she said dryly. Together they stood at the door, hearing Eboni's rant while trying to somehow fix the computer. The two knew they were in deep trouble now.

* * *

"Your ride will be available in ten minutes," Ahmose said, no longer having to think on his words. He handed over a ticket and waited for the next person in line to step up to his counter. It was actually just an old wooden table with a cloth over it, but that didn't matter as long as it fulfilled its purpose. For a moment he had time to look around himself, the street was bustling with people. Some were coming to ride one of the Hantoors, a horse-driven carriage, while others just to look. Across the street he saw a Hantoor driver bargaining with some family of tourists, animatedly pointing in his direction at times. He knew what the man, a competitor of the small business he worked for, was trying to accomplish. 

Ahmose had seen the man's carriage, sloppy work, as well as the horse that drew it, a poor old beast. It was true that they charged a lot, more than most of the other lone drivers, but their carriages were properly kept and the horses properly fed and taken care of.

"And you do this all day," a boy leaning against the wall behind said. There was little room behind the table, which stood at less than a meter away from the wall.

"It's a living, Sethos," Ahmose replied matter-of-factly, earning a snort from his younger friend.

"You're only eleven, you should be playing and not working," Sethos scoffed.

Ahmose shrugged and turned his attention to the man trying to purchase a ticket while speaking in broken Arabic. It was more than he usually got from the tourists, having to listen to English, French and what-not combined with hand signs.

"Well, see you around," Sethos said, moving from behind the table and disappearing into the crowd. Being in the middle of a transaction he didn't get a chance to say anything. It wasn't until some time later that he felt a light tap on his shoulder.

"Ahmose, you're done for today," his boss said.

"But I can still work, it hasn't been that long yet," Ahmose said.

"No, it's enough," the older man said resolutely, "Your friend was right you know, you should enjoy your youth. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Yes sir," Ahmose replied, closing his moneybox and handing it over to his boss. He wondered where Sethos went and whether or not he could catch up to him.

* * *

"Eternal Nirvana," the calling was accompanied by a thunderous noise as the stone door collapsed inward. Floating over the rubble, not bothered by the cloud of dust that rose up from the fallen debris, was an assortment of ghosts, Bakemon. They formed up into a half-circle, with the hole in the wall as its center. Through that hole strode its creator, the cloaked leader of the ghosts, Wisemon. He surveyed the room, hoping it would be the last after all the trap-laden rooms behind them. He was quickly running out of Bakemon. 

With a wordless gesture he send his ghosts out over the crevice and stone bridge ahead of him. With an audible click another trap mechanism was set off. Large scythes suddenly dropped out of the darkness above them, swinging over the bridge in wide arcs. Before anyone could react they had already cut through several of the ghosts. The others cowered back, unwilling to share that fate.

"Eternal Nirvana," Wisemon chorused again, blowing the offensive weapons away, "what are you waiting for?"

The remaining ghosts hesitated for a moment before complying. There wasn't much of a choice for them; either they suffered the possibility of dying in a trap or the certainty of getting executed by Wisemon on the spot.

Preceding their leader across the bridge they got to the other end with minimal casualties. The final room was just ahead and with it the artifact he sought. Sending three of the remaining Bakemon in ahead of him Wisemon braced himself for a final trap, but it didn't come. The room he was in now was fairly unremarkable, at least to him. It was bigger by far than the last room and lighter too, though the ceiling still couldn't be seen. The walls were covered with glowing digicode markings and led to a large dais in the center of the room.

"Scout the room," Wisemon ordered, not wanting to risk falling into a final trap now that the goal was so close.

The Bakemon spread out across the room, but nothing happened. With quick steps Wisemon ascended the dais to the large stone tablet atop it. He stared for a while at the image of a magnificent throne depicted on the tablet, his eyes scanning every inch of it.

"At last my Lord," he whispered, "the first of the Books is ours."

A sudden scream, stifled almost instantly, drew his attention away from his gloating in time to see one of his ghosts disperse into data fragments. For a moment all was quiet in the dark room as no one dared make a move.

A rush of air behind another Bakemon was all the warning the ghost got before his body was cut neatly in half. All others whirled on the spot to see what happened, but nothing was there except for dispersing data.

_Something is in here_, Wisemon thought, his eyes darting left and right. Before another of the ghosts or he himself could be attacked he grabbed the plaque sitting in a hollow in the stone tablet, the item they had come so far for.

The moment he took it from its holding place the tablet itself lit up brightly, shooting a beam of light straight up and through the roof. It lasted for only a few seconds, but that was just enough time to see a large form hanging over a Bakemon. Not caring much to having to fight this unknown foe in its natural territory Wisemon bolted for the door and left the room while behind him his remaining forces were slaughtered.

Up in the air the light had solidified itself into an orb, shining down on the digital world like a star. This, like its sudden creation, also lasted for only a few moments before another change split the orb into five beams of light that crashed down on several parts of the region's most prominent settlement. In the capital of a country a world away five children disappeared without a trace.

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

The title for this fic comes from the name of the Egyptian underworld, which is called Duat (or Tuat). The Duat itself has twelve divisions corresponding to the twelve hours of the night.

It should be noted that I do not live in Egypt, so all I know comes from online research. If I'm portraying something wrong I'd love to hear about it so I can correct it.


	2. Fateful Encounters

**Duat Diaries**

**Disclaimer: Digimon does not belong to me. This fic is set in Lord Archive's Diaries Universe and is written with permission.**

**Chapter two: ****Fateful Encounters**

Burner, largest bastion of civilization in the Database Desert, had been the seat of Pharaohmon's reign for about as long as most of the inhabitants could remember, ever since the viral Ultimate and his forces had taken control of the unruly region by force. That rule, though sometimes barely, had survived the Dark Masters, Apocalymon and reformatting of the world twice.

Through it all they had prevailed, Pharaohmon had prevailed, against all outside forces. Now their ruler was gone, defeated by some unknown outside force, and rule of the area had fallen to the leader of the mightiest order of priests, Anubimon. Unlike the former ruler the jackal chose to reside in his own pyramid instead of the royal palace, situated to the south-east of the city.

Full control of the capital had been given to the magistrate and, slowly but surely the delicate order of the city was caving in upon itself. Previously the magistrate had run his business from a building close to the palace, but had now relocated his office to the more luxurious quarters of the palace. No one had protested since moments after their ruler's death most of the higher-ups had left the city for their own bastions.

The palace and its grounds were surrounded by a high circular wall with four large gates, one for every major compass point. From there the city grew out, also in a circular pattern. While its edges were a bit rough close up, Burner made a perfect circle when viewed from the air.

Even when Pharaohmon still ruled, the city had never been a completely safe place, certainly not the slums which made up roughly a quarter of the city. Destroyed by various causes over many years, though most of it from one event in particular, the buildings had never been restored and were a stark contrast to the richer sections of the city. The broken buildings, appearing like a dark and forbidding graveyard, housed a plethora of digimon that for whatever reason wanted to remain hidden. Undead digimon who didn't belong to Anubimon's order, or creatures like Raremon and Numemon who either didn't fit in with the rest of the ordered society or couldn't stand the abundance of sunlight, could be found there in abundance.

It was a place the other inhabitants would rather forget, but such a thing was becoming more and more difficult as the unlawfulness of the slums was sweeping all over town. Violence had increased and slavers, who had at first only preyed on lone digimon at night, had begun taking people in broad daylight.

No one knew where things were going, but, looking at what history dictated, Skelamon believed it could only end in a large conflict. Probably, and dare he think it, hopefully, with the involvement of the Digidestined if recent important events were any indication.

Skelamon rushed through the dark and degenerate streets, a pace he had never used through these parts before since rushed digimon were soon dead digimon. One thing you should never do is let down your guard by running headlong through the slums, a lesson some only learned the hard way and only when it was already too late. The skeletal digimon was not among these unfortunates; he had avoided, or tried to avoid, such foolish actions for as long as he had lived.

An unforeseen unevenness in the ground made him stagger and his bones clattered more than usual while the scabbard of the blade he carried scraped against the underground. The sword's covering was strapped to one of the two pieces of clothing he wore, a black belt which hung loosely around his pelvis bones. The other item was a bandanna covering the top of his skull, which was rather larger than a body of his size warranted.

He sighed, considering for a brief moment how unfortunate it was that his body's bones, or rather his whole body since his bones technically were all there was to his body, always made such noise. Even if he stood still they usually clattered some against each other. Mostly he didn't mind that so much, but it was quite a hassle if you wanted to move quietly.

Yes, he thought, till now he had always managed to keep in the backdrop as much as possible. But now, against his better judgment here he was, running through what was sure to be the most inhospitable place in town. He knew that he had just fallen into the same pitfall as so many others, but he knew he had no choice.

There was a tugging in his bones, a feeling that was compelling him to go somewhere and fast, before it was too late. What he would be too late for he didn't know, though he had his suspicions and his hopes. Even so he was prepared to be disappointed again, a feeling he had known intimately for a long time.

Before he knew it Skelamon rounded a corner and came to an abrupt halt. He stood at the entrance of one of the many alleys of the slums and, like many others this one only had one real entrance. At the other side of the dead-end a group of ghosts, who looked like oversized and dirty white sheets that were somehow filled, hovered around a heap of fallen stones. All looked virtually identical, except that one of them was wearing a ridiculous pointy hat. The ghosts, Bakemon led by a Soulmon, seemed to be toying with something they had trapped in the alley.

Those wretches, Skelamon thought, have they caught yet another digimon for their vile amusement?

But the moment he thought that Skelamon knew he was wrong; whatever was drawing him here was not another digimon. Then he saw the ghosts' prey backed up against the fallen stones and he knew without a doubt that it really wasn't a digimon. With wide eyes he stared at a dark skinned humanoid with short black hair, something he had never seen before but instinctively knew nonetheless.

Before he realized it he had sprinted past the blockade of ghosts, who were only paying attention to their captured prey and not their rear, and climbed up some of the stones to get to the boy's level. Evidently the boy had tried to reach the top of the heap to make an escape when the ghosts had surrounded him.

"Don't be afraid, I'm not going to hurt you," Skelamon said, feeling his voice constricting slightly and his eyes tearing up.

The look that came his way from the boy though was far different from his own, mistrusting even and for good reason. His voice came across as cold, just as his demeanour suggested. What surprised Skelamon was how collected the boy sounded.

"I'm not afraid; if this is my time then I can only await my judgement."

"What are you talking about? This isn't your time," Skelamon protested, suddenly realizing the boy was talking about his own death, "You just got here!"

"Just in time for a midday snack," Soulmon jeered.

"You're going to eat him! Don't you know who he is?" Skelamon exclaimed, the happiness at finding the one who had to be his partner dampened severely by their predicament.

"Food like you are, only meaty," one of the Bakemon supplied, licking his ghastly lips.

Feeling somewhat queasy at the thought of being eaten Skelamon involuntarily inched up higher on the mound of rock, noticing as he did so that the boy, his partner, was mimicking the action.

"I thought you weren't afraid," Skelamon whispered.

"I'm not," the boy whispered back, "but being judged and being eaten are two different things and it isn't as if I'm more eager for the former than I am for the latter. Say, can't you do something about this? You seem to be like them."

"I can't, even though these slum ghosts aren't very bright they're a level higher than me," Skelamon replied.

"Higher level? What does that mean?"

"If we get the chance I'll gladly explain it to you," Skelamon said.

"Hey! What are you mumbling about," Soulmon demanded.

The boy smirked evilly, looking at something behind the ghost. Something the skeleton had just said was worth trying out, if it didn't work, they were no worse off, but if it did…

"We were just wondering who would be faster, you guys or that thing sneaking up behind you."

True to a fault the majority of the ghosts turned around, but there was nothing behind them. Before any of them could recover from their error the boy and skeleton had started climbing rapidly to the top of the debris heap. The collapsed wall had created an opening at the top into building interior, giving them a chance to escape. Two Bakemon hovered in front of the hole, but the two escapees wouldn't let themselves be stopped by that.

"Rusty Sword," Skelamon called out, swinging a blade that fit the description perfectly. It didn't do much, but the ghosts did back away enough for him and the boy to charge past.

"After them!" Soulmon screeched, malevolent eyes narrowing with undisguised hunger.

* * *

In a different part of town another pair of eyes narrowed in hunger as well. From the small shadowy recesses of an opening between two buildings, barely more than a meter wide and filled with foul smelling trash, a young boy watched a food stand intently. Behind the counter a weird creature, which looked disturbingly like a red aubergine with tentacles, was trying to sell his wares to similarly strange creatures. The fruit arrayed there looked like nothing he had ever seen before, but he felt hungry enough not to care about how it would taste. 

If the words of his soon-to-be partner in crime were any indication the taste of the fruit would not be a problem. Next to him, looking at the fruit with even more desire than he did was a blue lizard-like creature, a digimon he now knew him to be. It was hard to believe, but he wasn't in Cairo anymore.

"Are you sure about this?" Sethos asked, but from the look of his companion he already knew the answer. The real question was whether he was ready for it.

Before anything else the digimon's stomach rumbled, "Positive, I'm hungry, you're hungry and Red Veggiemon has food. It's as simple as that."

Sethos had to admit he had a point, but he had never stolen before and was a bit hesitant to do so now. But he was in a strange world now and without food he wouldn't survive, normal rules no longer applied.

"What if something goes wrong?"

"What if it doesn't?" V-mon replied with a grin. Resolutely the blue digimon left their hiding place and marched past the few digimon out on the street till he was pretty close to the stand.

"Hey Veg," he said amiably, "you got something good today?"

"My stuff is always fresh and proper," Veggiemon answered, keeping the child in his watchful gaze. He had dealt with this V-mon before.

"Of course it is," V-mon said, "but I wasn't referring to that. What I meant was, did you have something cheap?"

Red Veggiemon snorted, what V-mon meant was that he wanted his wares for free.

"Listen boy, my stock is the best around here and for the best you've got to pay the price. If you can't, you have no business here. I'm not running a charity."

"Stingy," V-mon admonished, taking a step forward as if he wanted to make a grab for some of the stuff closest to him. At once Veggiemon's tentacles shot out to protect his property, dangling them in front of the stall and V-mon. Now there was no way for the child to get to the food, but he didn't need to. Before Veggiemon knew what happened someone else, a humanoid, had appeared next to his counter and took of with a handful of fruit.

"Hey!" Veggiemon called out in shock, retracting his tentacles away from V-mon but he was too late to catch the thief. When he looked back V-mon had disappeared as well, but not empty handed. The salesman let out a litany of curses as he stomped about in impotency, he had been tricked again, but one day he would turn the tables on the lizard and his new friend. He would make sure of that, one way or the other. A dangerous line of thought since the city guard seemed to be harsher in keeping order every day that went by.

* * *

Two pair of feet clattered against the stone ground, making more noise than either of them wanted. There were patches of sand, but most of it had been hidden beneath the rocks of fallen buildings. Even so, Hesire was not happy with the sand. While it didn't make as much noise as running on the rocks did, it did slow them down with their feet sinking away partially every time they put them down on the ground. 

Wherever they went the few digimon around always hid themselves quickly. He was sure they wouldn't have simply left like that if they'd been alone, but with the ghastly following they had they were hardly alone. Getting two kids in trouble was one thing, but even the denizens of the slums thought twice about harassing the prey of one of the ghost gangs.

"Partners you say?" Hesire asked the skeleton running at his side, feeling a bit out of breath already.

"Yes, the digivice proves you're a Digidestined," Skelamon answered, "It is said they have the ability to help their partners evolve in the face of danger. I feel you're my partner, the one I've been waiting for, for almost my whole life."

Hesire nodded, though that was hard to notice with the way they were running, "This 'evolution' business, it means to get up to their 'level' right? Then you could fight them."

"Well yes, but," Skelamon started to say before being interrupted.

"We're partners," Hesire concluded, "so I should be able to evolve you. I'm tired of running like this, better to face them now before we're too tired."

With that the boy stopped running and wheeled around to face the pursuers that had just appeared around a corner they had taken moments earlier, his expression grim. Skelamon looked worried, but got in front of his partner nonetheless. He gulped, while he knew the theory behind being the partner of a Digidestined he had never met one before nor actually seen or experienced the kind of evolution they were so well known for.

"Right then Skelamon," Hesire said in the face of the oncoming ghosts, "Evolve!"

The boy thrust the digivice in front of him, as if that could activate it somehow, and Skelamon tensed up. Surprised by this turn of events Soulmon and the Bakemon stopped approaching, opting instead to first take stock of what was going on. A few seconds went by with nothing happening, then the skeleton's bones clattered loudly for a bit.

"Skelamon?" Hesire asked in concern. He had taken the clattering of his digimon's bones when he moved for a natural trait, but this didn't seem quite right.

"Too hungry," Skelamon moaned apologetically.

Without another word the Digidestined and his partner ran away again, the ghosts in hot pursuit.

* * *

Back out in the more sunlit streets another pair was having some trouble of their own, though nothing as pressing yet as what was going on in the slums. They moved slowly, and unsurely, down the same market street where Sethos and V-mon had robbed Veggiemon. 

"It's all so unbelievable," the taller of the two, a human girl, muttered. She took the time to fully take in her surroundings, so different from where she had been before.

"But it is real, you're really finally here," Alraumon replied happily.

Nephthys felt slightly more at ease at the genuine happiness the plant displayed at having her around, but that didn't take away from the fact that she was alone in a strange world with strange creatures. And not all of them seemed to be that nice and that feeling wasn't just caused by their appearances. Some looked at her like they wanted to eat her.

"Don't worry, I'll protect you in any way I can," Alraumon said suddenly to set her partner at ease, though she didn't feel that confident about actually carrying it through. Both girls just hoped they would be left alone till they found the others.

Nephthys wasn't so sure there were any other humans around, but her partner was firm in her belief that they weren't alone.

Unknown to them two of those others were watching the pair from the vantage point of the roofs of the buildings lining the street.

"A girl?" Sethos asked, taking a bite from a juicy fruit they had swiped. It looked like an apple, but it was softer and the taste was completely different too.

"Yeah, that's Alraumon, though I haven't seen her in a while," V-mon replied and then looked at the boy with a sceptical look, "Can't you tell?"

"All I see is a plant buddy," Sethos shrugged, "now her partner is clearly a girl though."

"So you _can_ tell the difference between genders, I was starting to worry about you. You haven't made a single correct assertion yet."

Now Sethos looked at V-mon with a disproving stare, "Oh shut up, how was I supposed to know that lumbering ogre was a girl? She certainly didn't look it, what with those teeth and that scowl and all."

Still Sethos was glad for the light banter between them, it helped keep his mind of the fact that he was very far from home. V-mon was about to reply when he noticed something happening down in the street. Two not so friendly looking digimon had broken away from a wall and were now intercepting the pair.

"Well, what do we have here?" The larger of the two digimon, an Apemon, jeered, "A pair of young girls out for a walk alone in these troubled times. Don't worry ladies, we'll protect you."

"N-no thank you," Nephthys said after regaining her voice from the shock, "we're just fine and don't need any protection."

"Aw, don't say that," Goblimon interjected, crowding round the human girl together with Apemon, "we know the perfect place for you to be safe. You can never be too safe in this cruel world."

"Leave her alone!" Alraumon protested, gaining only an angered look from the yellow-furred brute. Before she could react he had swung his large bone club around, knocking the poor child against a far wall. With a painful groan she slumped down, unconscious.

"Alraumon," Nephthys screamed. She started to move to the fallen digimon but with another scream she was suddenly lifted over Apemon's shoulder. Ignoring the girl as she started to alternately screaming to be released and calling for help the yellow-furred strong-arm walked away with the girl over his shoulder and Goblimon at his side. No one did anything, in fact everyone were busying themselves with looking the other way.

Kidnappings had started happening in broad daylight and if you didn't want to run the risk of being the next one taken you made sure that you saw nothing and heard nothing. Patrols had increased since the fall of Pharaohmon, but somehow they were never around when the kidnappings occurred. As such none of the bystanders made a move to interfere even though the two adults would have stood no chance against the collective strength of the townsmen.

On the roof Sethos was gritting his teeth and V-mon was ready to jump down and help; only his partner's reluctance was stopping him.

"Shouldn't we help them?" V-mon questioned, pointing at the ape carrying the girl.

"Can you beat them?" Sethos replied with another question. He too would've liked nothing more than to jump to the girl's aid, but he wasn't looking forward to getting captured along with her, much like the townsmen who kept silent. He didn't know much about where he was yet and compared to V-mon the two kidnappers looked a lot more formidable. After all, the flower digimon had stood no chance either.

"Well," V-mon considered, "not really. Maybe the Goblimon if he had been by himself, but Apemon is a bit beyond me I think. But still."

The boy shook his head, "If we get captured we can't do a thing. Let's see where they take her, maybe we rescue her then. At least we'll know where she is so we can make a plan."

Not waiting any longer they followed the retreating kidnappers and their captive from the safety of the higher ground. Mere moments after they had all left the scene, Alraumon stirred and slowly got back to her feet, still feeling a bit wobbly after the blow to her small frame.

"Nephthys?" She croaked, but the girl was nowhere to be seen. Some bystanders were giving her sympathetic looks, but most were still acting as if nothing had happened. Sniffing and looking around hopelessly for some sign of her new friend she broke into a run, trying to find some help to get her partner back.

* * *

Hesire leaned against a wall of the largest intact building he had seen so far and drew air through ragged breaths; the ghosts were still following them and showed no signs of relenting in their pursuit. Close to him stood Skelamon, bend slightly over with his hands resting on his knees. 

Even for a skeleton the boy thought he looked rather famished. From what he had seen of these creatures' living conditions there wasn't a lot of food to go around. That was probably why the ghosts were still trying to catch them so vehemently, though Hesire also reasoned that their escape had made a blow to the gang's collective ego.

For the moment they were alone for which he was thankful, being chased around took more out of you than he could have imagined.

"So, what do we do now?" Hesire asked, "Is there a way to escape this place?"

At the question Skelamon took a good look around himself, something he hadn't had the time or consideration for before then. His eyes widened considerably when he finally noticed where they were, and exactly what building his partner was leaning against.

"What?" Hesire asked brusquely when he saw the worried look coming his way. The last thing he wanted was to add more trouble to their plate.

"I-we are, well, we're close to the edge of the slums," Skelamon started saying, "but in this part the barricade separating us from the rest of the city is practically impenetrable. The only way out or in, and I'm only speaking of rumours here, would be to go through the building you're leaning against."

"Well that's good isn't, if we can escape through the building?" Hesire remarked, "So what's worrying you so much about this thing, it can't get any worse than being eaten by ghosts."

Skelamon shook his head, "It's rumoured that this building is the base of a large group of bandits, smugglers and slavers. If they get us we'd be better off eaten."

"They're here!" A ghastly voice suddenly shouted from a distance and within moments the lone ghost was surrounded by the rest of his kin. They started to advance, but were doing so slowly and deliberately. Like Skelamon they had no intention of alerting the tenants to their activities, ghost gang or not they didn't stand a chance if they angered them. A fact that had been made quite clear to the shouting Bakemon after Soulmon had whacked him on the head.

All of this proved a nice distraction that the boy didn't dare pass up.

"I don't know about you, but I'll take my chances inside," Hesire remarked. As luck would have it there was an opening in the wall at what he guessed was between the first and second floor. If they could reach it they would be free from the undead pursuit. The wall, while still more in one piece than the others he had seen, was highly irregular and thus usable for climbing.

Skelamon alternately watched his partner and the ghosts, but decided that he really didn't want to get eaten or leave Hesire alone to face whatever was in the building.

"Stop, you don't want to go in there," Soulmon objected, but in a much quieter tone.

"I also don't want to go in your mouth," Hesire called back, far louder than the shouting Bakemon had been earlier. Skelamon gulped nervously and likewise the rest of the ghosts halted their advance out of worry.

Soulmon hissed, for their prey it didn't matter much if they were eaten by them or captured by the ruffians in the building. Either way they lost big, but Soulmon wasn't looking forward to a confrontation which was sure to follow if the boy continued making such racked.

"If that's what you want, then go right ahead," Soulmon said, no longer making any advances to the climbing pair, conceding the loss, "but you'd better not return here, or we will eat you."

Ignoring the threat Hesire was the first to reach opening and, seeing as Soulmon and the rest of the ghosts weren't doing anything, took a moment to look inside first. At first glance he saw that they had two choices for proceeding. He could either try to wring himself through the small crevice between the wooden floor and the bottom of the hole to get to the lower level or go up into the higher level. As the opening for going down seemed a bit too snug he opted to go up.

The floorboards creaked when he put his feet on them, but it didn't make half as much noise as they had all been making outside so he wasn't all that worried. There were a few hallways and doors, but apart from him there was no one around.

Turning around to the outside again he helped his partner up and gave the ghosts one last look.

"I'll keep that in mind, thanks for the warning. Let's go Skelamon, maybe we can find some food for you in here while we're at it."

The two considered where to go to next for a moment. As far as they knew any direction was as good as another. With a shrug the human boy simply went down the first passage he saw, Skelamon trailing close behind. They went slowly and mostly quiet, though the creaking of the wood came across as far too loud in their ears. The digimon hoped they would be able to get out of the building without being discovered, but the chances of that were exceedingly small.

Especially so when somewhere ahead of them, still hidden in the gloom of the barely lit hall, a pair of voices could be heard. It didn't take either of them long to realize they were heading their way and that if discovered their fate might be worse than if they had been eaten outside.

Taking a chance, not that they had any choice otherwise, the skeletal digimon dodged into a room to their left. As luck would have it the room was stocked with several boxes and wooden crates and not with digimon as Skelamon had feared. Though Hesire couldn't see it, he had no doubt that every one of the boxes was filled. There was a wealth here that didn't exist outside of the walls. The trespassers hid between the containers, waiting for the owners of the voices to pass them by. Instead, they entered the room they had picked to hide in.

* * *

Resting one rooted hand against a sandstone wall Alraumon stopped to catch her breath. Her chest rose and fell in quick succession, but that was only in part because she had run all the way over from the market street to her present location. 

A quiet street, there was no one around except for her, at least as far as she could see. While the city was large enough for thousands of digimon the truth was that it currently housed but a fraction of that number. Probably the only section that contained the intended number was the slums, but that was nothing to boast about.

There was a house in this street, empty most of the time like the ones around it, where she might find help. She and her friends had lived there on and off for a long time, ever since their previous dwelling had become unmanageable. Though most of them had either flocked to other parts of the city or even beyond it, the small group still met there once in a while. It was the only place she considered safe. Well, safer than any other place at least.

Slowly she started walking again, ignoring the dull throbbing in her side, a result of being slammed by a club and into a wall. No one in the city would even consider helping her aside from her small circle of friends. But if they weren't there, and she had no real reason to believe they would be, than she had nowhere else to go to help her save Nephthys.

A murmuring of voices came to her from a distance as she was reconsidering her options if the house proved to be empty. It was still pretty faint, so she looked around to find whoever was whispering. Moments later she realized that the sound came from the other end of the street and was thus quite loud to reach her over such a distance. Hope rekindled in her mind as the voices could only come from her house.

The house in question wasn't very big and virtually identical to the others in the street. There were two floors, three if you counted the flat roof, one at ground level and one some three meters above that was reachable by a flight of stairs at the back. The roof could be reached through a rope ladder and trapdoor in the ceiling of the first floor.

The ground floor held a small kitchen, though no food had been prepared there for a very long time, a small and empty storage and a main room with a shoddy table and some seats. The first floor was empty aside from some mats strewn about on the floor for sleeping. Aside from the front door there were only two small windows, one for every floor.

Inside, a girl with short dark hair slammed both hands on the table hard, her face a thundercloud waiting to burst. Two on-looking digimon winched, they weren't sure the poor furniture could survive much more punishment. Across the table stood a boy, also with short hair and an equally clouded expression, his arms crossed in front of him.

"No," he said simply, though his voice was terse. It was hard not to snap back at the girl who would not listen to reason. It was aggravating to no end, especially since their argument had already gone full circle several times.

"We've been over this; we don't know what's out there. It's not safe to just waltz right out into who knows what, we need more information and in the meantime we're safe here," Ahmose explained once more, feeling himself lose pretty much what was left of his patience. What he proposed, and what was shot down by the other time and again, was that they stayed in the house, at least for a while. First they would get as much information of the world they were in from the two natives who called themselves their partners. After that they would make the best possible plan and go outside, since staying in the house forever was definitely out of the question. He agreed with her on that much. However going out without a clue as to how things worked was simply begging for trouble in his opinion. He had seen examples of such things enough in his days of part-time work renting out Hantoor rides. Tourists, unaware of how things worked, were often easily duped into taking rides that were in some way or another defective, or when shopping they'd pay too much for things not worth a dime. Simply because their understanding of the world, something which might or might not, work fine at their own homes, didn't apply to the streets of Cairo. The last thing he wanted was to fall for the same thing himself.

"But we don't know for how long we're safe here, we should go out and explore while we can,"

Eboni answered, pointing at the digimon sitting nearby, "There's no substitute for experience, even if they tell us everything they know we'll still learn more when we see things for ourselves."

"Explore?" Ahmose said, his tone one of exasperation, "like you were doing when I found you? When you were this close to getting yourself killed?"

Uncrossing his arms as he was talking the boy slammed his right hand on the table, eliciting yet another wince from the two digimon, and moved his right hand till it was right in front of the girl's face holding his thumb and pointer-finger exactly a centimeter apart.

If she had been angry before, now the girl looked livid, slapping aside the hand in front of her.

"I was in no danger; I was just examining that digimon. Aren't you at all curious about any of this?" Eboni countered.

"Of course I am curious, that's not the issue here. The problem is that you are too curious for your own good."

Once again Eboni started to open her mouth in protest, but Ahmose was having none of it, "No, you listen to me now. You were the one who went up to that ogre, an ogre for crying out loud, and annoyed her without any regard for what you were doing simply because you were curious. You didn't even notice she was a girl, or that snarl forming on her face or her fingers tightening on her club. If I hadn't come along you would have been splattered all over the street."

"It wouldn't have gone that far," Eboni insisted, unwilling to concede her point, "and how was I supposed to know that was a girl?"

"Because it was obvious?" Ahmose remarked dryly.

"It was not obvious and I wouldn't have gotten hurt. But even so we can't just stay here."

Ahmose sighed, "If we stay here you'll be safe."

"What? You think I need your protection?" Eboni gritted her teeth. He knew she'd be even angrier if he said yes, but he felt that she needed protection indeed, if not from others than from herself. He recalled that he already had mentioned that and once again he cursed the circular structure of the entire conversation, they were getting nowhere fast.

"They're really going at it aren't they?" Leormon, a catlike digimon and Eboni's partner, whispered with awe.

Plotmon nodded solemnly, "Neither of them is backing down, even though it's clear that Ahmose is in the right."

"What was that?" Leormon replied, "You can't mean that, obviously Eboni is right in wanting to explore and see our world with her own eyes. What will staying cooped up in here do for us?"

"It will keep our charges safe. Just as Ahmose has said, if we hadn't come along when we did Ogremon would have attacked you."

"You doubt my ability to protect my own partner?" Leormon hissed, pointing a sharp claw in front of Plotmon's face. The emerald ornament on her collar made a clinking sound as she moved.

"I doubt your ability to stay out of trouble, you're too reckless," the puppy replied. He wasn't feeling all that intimidated by the size difference between them, even though she was nearly twice as big as he was.

It didn't take much more to get the two digimon in the same kind of heated discussion as their human partners.

"P-please stop," Alraumon said hesitantly from the door opening, surprising everyone in the house. Absorbed as they were in their discussions no one had seen her coming.

The young plant, happy at finding the people she was looking for, was also cowed by the hostility of the building's occupants. If there was one thing she abhorred above all else it was conflict.

"Alraumon," Leormon said amiably, the hissing tone she had previously been using dissolving in the air.

"It's good to see you again; it's been what, a week, maybe two?" Plotmon said, he also seemed to have put the argument behind him at the arrival of the timid girl. The two digimon knew of their friend's discomfort when people were fighting and weren't inclined to make her feel bad.

Alraumon smiled weakly, relieved that the house wasn't abandoned as he had feared it would be. The house was so often empty she remembered, aside from herself the others rarely came back. She was almost always there, feeling safe while taking care of things, keeping things tidy. Of her friends she saw Leormon and Plotmon the most, but not as often as she would have liked. The former was always following her curiosity, going all around the city and sometimes to the river beyond, being gone for days at times. Her fur was yellow whereas the puppy's was light beige and she had a tuft of red hair on the top of her head.

Plotmon came around more often, though he too had been gone for a long period of time. Usually he did odd end jobs and made sure she got some of the earnings to make a living, the puppy was the most responsible of the lot of them.

There were two more she had hoped to find here, V-mon and Skelamon, but they were absent. The lizard was a known troublemaker and as such usually kept himself far from their house so that if he happened to draw some unwanted attention to himself, something she didn't doubt happened often enough, they wouldn't try to find him at the house. It was very considerate of him, but she had rather seen that he let go of his tricks and simply settled down. It was selfish, but she really wanted the company of her friends.

Skelamon was the scholarly type, just about the exact opposite of V-mon, always trying to learn more and figure out the reason of things. For a time he had stayed at home with her, but one day he had left and hadn't been seen since. She knew he had gone into the slums, where most undead digimon seemed to go if they weren't with Anubimon's Order, something she sometimes thought he would have joined if he hadn't been waiting like the rest of them. Being an undead digimon in the order was a great honour, not being in it made them shunned and reviled. It was an odd dichotomy, but Skelamon had explained to her why he thought this was so. The first part, he had said, was simple. Anubimon's order was focused on what lay beyond life and undead digimon were practically the personification of what the priestly order stood for. Of course they weren't really dead or creatures from the other side of life; they were simply a particular subset of the digimon species.

Alraumon could still hear his voice in her mind as he put things in more complex terms than were necessary. So that particular order was comprised mostly of undead digimon and those part of it were in an honourable position, even if they only did lowly guard duty it was a better way of life than most others had in the desert. Therefore it made no sense if you were undead and not in the order, it had to mean that somehow you weren't fit for it. If you weren't fit than there was something wrong with you, something devious perhaps, even if you had legitimate reasons.

Shunned by normal society they had become outcasts and in the slums they had become exactly what people had accused them of being. When asked why the skeletal digimon hadn't joined the order he had replied that Anubimon was only focused on exploring the secrets of death while he wanted to find out everything. He'd feel too restricted being part of the priest's organisation. And then he too had left for the slums, partly to discover what that was like, partly because he was tired of the silent and sometimes not so silent accusations that came his way, and in part because before it had become what it was now they had all lived there. As it stood none of them knew if he was even alive or if they did at least she hadn't heard anything about it.

"Who's this?" Ahmose asked.

"Ah, how rude of us," Plotmon said, "Alraumon, this is my partner Ahmose. Ahmose, meet Alraumon, a very good friend of ours."

"And this is my partner Eboni," Leormon purred.

At hearing the word partner she started sobbing again, reminded of the harsh reality that her own partner had been abducted and she had done nothing to stop it. The others in the room exchanged worried glances and Leormon put a paw on the girl's shoulder.

"What's wrong?" She asked.

"They took her, I couldn't stop them."

"Who took who?" Ahmose bent down to the sobbing girl, his face set in concern.

"The slavers, they took your partner," Leormon deduced.

"Slavers?" Eboni gasped and Plotmon nodded gravely.

"They've been active in this city for a while now, doing everything from trading to smuggling and kidnapping. Lately they've gotten a lot bolder."

Ahmose's expression became hard again, more than it had been when he'd been arguing.

"This is unacceptable," he spat out and within a moment he stood outside looking in, "What are you waiting for?"

"W-what?" Eboni stammered, caught of guard, "you don't want to plan or anything?"

She was itching to help out the new digimon's partner as much as anyone, but the fact that the guy who seemed so vehemently to be against reckless behaviour was going out before her was enough to give her pause. It briefly crossed her mind that maybe she had misjudged him.

"We don't have time for that, who knows what's happening to her while we delay ourselves," Ahmose replied, as if rushing out unprepared was the most logical thing to do, completely contrary to his earlier actions. But though he preferred not to do things without thinking it through first he wouldn't hesitate if his help was needed. Without waiting for a response the boy started down the street.

"Now you're speaking my language," Eboni smiled briefly, then she and the others followed him out, "so where are we going?"

* * *

Nephthys groaned and tried to swallow, a painful exercise since her throat seemed unnaturally dry. It was completely dark around her, but only till she realized her eyes were closed. Somewhere along the line after being taken she had lost consciousness. Part of her wished she was still out, so she wouldn't have to face the reality of being a captive in a strange world. 

Trying to move she found herself being restricted by a length of rope wound all around her upper body, trapping her arms behind her back. A second, though smaller, piece of rope around her ankles kept her from trying to get up. Not that it would have helped her had she been able to stand, as the larger rope was also connected to the large crate she was seated against. Whoever tied her up made sure she wouldn't be able to free herself in any way. As far as Nephthys could see there was nothing in the room she could use either. Sparsely lit, the room was not large but even so she could barely make out any of the walls. Turning her head to both sides she saw more crates like the one she was bound to, but there were none in front of her. Nothing between her and the door, it could be nothing else with the strip of vague light coming from bottom, at all.

No, that wasn't true, there was an odd shadow standing next to the door. A digimon set as guard she realized. By now he had to have noticed she had come to, yet he gave no sign at all so she didn't do anything either. Even if she had dared ask him something she couldn't make a peep through the gag in her mouth.

For a moment she closed her eyes, willing away the despair that was threatening to wash over her. As if being whisked away to a strange world wasn't bad enough, she was now in the hands of who knows what and with no hope of rescue. No one knew she was there, except perhaps Alraumon, but what could she do to get her free again. She couldn't even keep her safe from two thugs in the street.

Before she could think any more the door swung open and some more light flooded in to dispel bits of the darkness. With that new source of illumination she could make out some of the features of the silent guard. She thought it looked a lot like the small thug that had taken her on the street. One gesture from the large form entering the room and the digimon left, closing the door and the light behind him.

The helpless girl gave the newcomer her fiercest glare, but that melted away quickly when she saw the tall muscular form towering over her. Her eyes trailed upward from the large clawed feet and the baggy brown pants the stranger wore to the bared chest lined with scars. There were scars everywhere, so many that she hardly noticed that the body was actually furred. Finally her gaze settled on the being's head, a lion's head, possessing even the wild rugged manes of one.

"Impressed?" He spoke, his voice rough yet smug. The one in charge, she knew that without question. Slowly he brought his face close to hers, transfixing her with his eyes. Now that they were so close she could see one was a complete pearly white. Before she knew what was happening he sliced away the gag with a clawed finger, breathing out into her face before rising again. His breath washed over her and she coughed violently, a painful experience given the state of her throat, but unavoidable since the swath of air was far from being pure.

"So you're one of those humans," he scoffed, "I must say I'm not impressed. Just look at you, frail build, flimsy clothes, and are those tears I see?"

Nephthys didn't make a move, not even blinking her eyes which were getting somewhat watery, even if it was more from the smell of his breath than fear on her side. She tried to hold her captor's stare, but even though he only had one good eye to see with it made her feel ill and weak. Shamed she put her eyes down and looked away.

The scarred Leomon stepped back and slightly away, giving her a sideway glance, almost uncaring.

"Who are you girl, and what are you doing here?" He asked softly, "This really is no place for you."

Again she stayed silent, unable to form any words just yet and sure that she would never be able to give him the answers he wanted to hear. Seconds went by without either of them saying anything more when suddenly Leomon crouched low to her again but keeping his head above hers. A hand took hold of her long hair and she was partially pulled up to his eye level. The sudden pain elicited a sharp, but short outcry of pain. In an almost futile act she tried to balance herself with her feet so her weight wouldn't be solely carried by her hair.

"Perhaps you don't fully understand your situation," Leomon stated coldly, enjoying the feeling of causing pain and anguish a bit too much, "you think there's any escape for you? Well think again, even if you manage to get out of those ropes there are dozens of my men here, you can't get past them all."

He paused briefly to let his words sink in, "Perhaps you believe you'll be rescued? You know your little friend is a weak weed; she'll simply forget about you and move on. Trust me because I've seen it happen more than once."

"Maybe," he continued, taking on a mocking tone, "she'll find help if she can't do it alone. Wrong again, this entire city is cowed under our power, not even the guards can do a thing against us. And just between you and me, even if you fell in their hands you'll be mine again before you can bat an eye. And other humans? There are none and if there are, they're like you, new, lost and weak, with more on their minds than saving a helpless girl. If they even know you're here that is."

Suddenly released from the iron grip on her hair Nephthys unceremoniously sank back to the ground, her breathing coming in short gasps.

"But," Leomon started saying in a more soothing tone, though with the rough edges to his voice this was hardly different from his normal speech, "if you were to tell me what I want to know, I could save you. If you were to cooperate I could set you free, bring you right back to where we picked you up and let you be. Or you could come work for me, I'm sure I could find something useful for a human to do, even a frail one like you. A position of power and authority, a means to getting whatever you desire, a way so you'll never be caught like this again. Wouldn't you like that?"

Nephthys tired to answer, but found herself unable to use her voice. She tried to move, but couldn't do that either. Briefly she tried not to show her fear in eyes and face; wild animals would often attack if you showed them fear, but failed miserably. She couldn't believe this was actually happening to her, but it was only all too real.

Leomon strode to the other side of the room, back to the door that let out of her cell. His back turned to her he stopped after placing his clawed hand around the door handle.

"Think carefully about what you heard here girl," he said, "there are many ways to make you speak, none of which will be pleasant for you. Remember also that we don't need you to speak, that you are of no real consequence to us, so it would be wise to take the easiest way out of your little predicament, which is cooperation."

"As an aside, we are among many things also traders with a large clientele. A rather diverse clientele I might add with, how shall I put this," Leomon stopped briefly for emphasis, "a wide field of interests. Someone might just like having a human around, for things that would even make me shudder and believe me that there are few things that give me pause. So consider your options carefully child, consider them very carefully."

And with that he was gone, leaving the girl behind to cry in the darkness.


	3. Lair of the Beast King

**Duat Diaries**

**Disclaimer: Digimon does not belong to me. This fic is set in Lord Archive's Diaries Universe and is written with permission.**

**Chapter Three: Lair of the Beast King**

Ducked down behind a parapet of a small flat roof Sethos realized he might have made a grave mistake in following the girl's kidnappers. Following them had not been difficult, not even when he had to track them on the ground at times and not from above. They did not know they were being followed, nor did they give any inclination that they cared if they were. Just a pair of lowlifes he thought whose overconfidence would be their downfall.

But then they'd gotten to a large building, greater and higher than any of the houses the boy had seen on his pursuit. Now he was worried, there was no way the situation could get much worse if he wanted to try a rescue attempt. Instead of two loners whom he might have snuck behind to get to the girl he had to deal with some kind of syndicate, it could be nothing else. Now it seemed he was the overconfident one.

"Oh, so they're with them," V-mon gulped, looking somewhat pale. One glance over the low protective wall earlier and he hadn't made a second move since.

He hadn't seen his partner afraid yet, granted though they only just met, but the fruit thief had given him no reason to see him as the fearing type. In hindsight he realized it shouldn't have surprised him that much at all, after all no one in the streets had acted up against the two kidnappers while they were vastly outnumbered. The seeds of fear seemed to have rooted deep in the town and probably for very good reason.

"Them?" Sethos questioned, "You know who these guys are? Care to tell me about it?"

"They're called Scratches," he answered slowly, "They do everything from kidnapping, killing, stealing, smuggling; you name it. And no one, not even the city guards, can do anything about it. They are the real power in the city."

"And you couldn't have told me this before?" Sethos hissed harshly, perhaps a bit too harsh.

Quickly he looked over the parapet again to see if anyone noticed. Not many digimon were out in the streets here, it seemed that everyone knew what this place was, so no doubt the city's protectors and officials knew too. Something like a public secret the boy thought. His eyes fell again on a small group of three that was loitering around the large building, the not so undercover watchmen of the Scratches. The boy felt relieved when he saw no noticeable changes in their behaviour. Like the two he had followed they expected no problem and were thus lax in their duties. Useful perhaps if he wanted to sneak past them, but the open space between the houses and the bandits' base was to large to even make an attempt at it. No matter how uncaring the watchmen were they'd have to be blind not to notice someone approaching their front door.

Satisfied that they weren't discovered yet Sethos leaned back low against the parapet, giving a sigh of relief. Looking over he saw that his partner was looking a bit dejected.

"I'm sorry," Sethos said, "I didn't mean to snap."

"I understand," V-mon replied, "And I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner, it's just that…I didn't know. There have been so many thugs lately it's hard to know who's who."

Sethos sighed again, "This makes everything so difficult. We should have jumped those two when we had the chance. How are we going to get inside now?"

"Perhaps we should just knock?" V-mon ventured.

The boy smiled slightly at that, seemed like V-mon wasn't as downtrodden as he had assumed. But his smile didn't last long; they were still outside and in no way closer to finding a way inside. He just knew the lax attitude of the watchers could somehow be used to get in, but for the life of him he couldn't figure out how. He wondered what was going on inside and if the girl was still alright.

* * *

Inside the building another boy and digimon were in a similar position, hiding behind a low cover. But unlike a parapet the box wasn't meant for it. Unfortunately there was nothing else, nor was there time to search for another hideout. All Hesire and Skelamon could hope for was that their luck had not run out yet. But unfortunately once again, it seemed that it did. The two pairs of footsteps stopped right outside the room they were in. 

"Hey, what's this?" One of them, a Goblimon asked. For a moment they thought they'd been discovered.

"Somebody forgot to close the door," the goblin continued, sounding pleased. Rubbing his hands gleefully he entered the room, looking at all the stuff it contained.

"What do you think you're doing?" Apemon asked, following the other inside. Both stood on one side of the largest crate in the room, one displaying barely disguised glee and greed, the other looking on dispassionately at what his companion was doing. On the other side Hesire and Skelamon were pressed back hard, waiting for the inevitable discovery to happen.

"It's time for a bonus," Goblimon said matter-of-factly.

"A bonus?" Apemon questioned.

"We were the ones who brought in that strange girl, but we got squat," Goblimon said, "Who do you think will profit from a rare find like that? The boss will, not us. Right now, I'm a little hungry and the boss isn't here."

He quickly reached for the heavy lid of the crate and lifted it partially, looking at the contents. Hesire could only assume it held food, which meant they were in some sort of larder. Who did they capture? He wondered, but he was quickly drawn back into the reality of becoming a captive himself. With a heave Goblimon threw away the crate's lid, barely missing the two intruders at the other side. The clatter of the wood hitting the ground covered their sudden heavy breathing.

"You're not going to stop me, are you?" Goblimon asked.

Apemon snorted, "Of course not, after all that work we did the least we deserve is a good meal."

Even before Goblimon could make even an attempt at choosing a meal the larger ape's hand was rustling through the dried wares inside the crate, and he was being none to subtle about it. What he didn't fancy had just as much chance of ending up on the floor as it did being simply pushed aside. A heavy loaf of something that resembled a very dark kind of bread hit Skelamon square on the head and it was only the quick reaction of his partner that kept his skull from clattering loudly, which would surely have meant their discovery.

Skelamon's eyes spoke volumes for the boy but while Hesire was glad they weren't found out yet he was more interested in what the two deviants had been talking about than the chance of discovery. A strange girl, captured. To him any girl digimon would be as strange as any other digimon, but he wondered if the same went for them as well. Would they find others equally strange as he found them or would the diversity between them be the same as the differences between people? Different, though still the same species and thus the same. If so, could the girl they'd captured be human?

More food went over the side while Goblimon and Apemon were stuffing their faces and taking hold of as much of it as they could. The moment they had started they'd become agitated, most likely for fear of discovery and being reported to their boss for stealing his property. No matter how many prisoners they'd make Hesire doubted the leader of such a feared band of criminals would be let them live after such an indiscretion. If they were lucky that could mean the two petty thieves would hurry off as soon as they could and not clean up the mess they'd made. And in turn that meant they wouldn't be discovered hiding either. But if they did stay, to clean up and do away with any evidence of their act, then the game was up.

The boy was prepared for both eventualities and, if death should come, then so be it. He did not particularly want to die, but he knew it to be a natural part of life and shouldn't be feared. A line of thought that no one he knew shared and had gotten him odd looks every now and then from those that knew, his parents not excluding. Here though it was proving useful, as he wasn't as afraid as he could be. He thought of his parents and, though disrespectful, all he could imagine was that if they were here, in his position, having seen what he saw, they'd be whimpering heaps. This went against all they'd thought possible, a strange world, ghosts, monsters, certain death. Not to say he wasn't shaken, but at least he wasn't hysterical. He thought of his mother, a kind and practical woman, but adverse to change. A change like this she wouldn't be able to handle and he was glad she wasn't there for that. He wondered if he'd ever see her again and also if the captured girl, if she was in fact human like him, felt the same.

"Let's get out of here," Goblimon said. Or at least that was what the boy and digimon duo thought he said, giving the way the goblin spoke with his mouth filled almost to overflowing it could have almost been anything.

This was the moment of truth, where they'd either be discovered or left alone. Of immediate trouble or simply some respite. Both hoped for the latter, one because he doubted his ability to protect his partner and the other because it would put to a stop all thoughts of a slight change of plans. In either eventuality he would still try to get out alive, but if he had his way than it would be with a slight detour of his devising. His way, now that was a laugh, nothing since the day had begun had even remotely gone his way. From a useless trip through tourist traps to ending up hiding inside a den of otherworldly criminals in a place not even close to home. No, nothing had gone his way, but it was high time it should. He hoped it was time it would.

Footsteps followed the goblins muffled words and they led away from them. Still the two waited with baited breath for seconds that seemed to last hours for any sign that they or others would return to the room. When they didn't Hesire was the first to get up and peer over the opened crate.

"They're gone," he whispered to Skelamon who let out a sigh of relief.

Quickly the boy went to the door, which Apemon and Goblimon hadn't even bothered to close when they left, and looked outside into the hallway. No one was in sight now, but they couldn't risk waiting there for long. Hesire turned back to his partner, who had grabbed a loaf off the floor and was wiping off the dust that had already collected on it. For a storage room it was far from being hygienic.

While looking at the food in his hand Skelamon's bones started to clatter involuntarily again. It amazed Hesire how a skeleton could feel hungry and mimic the behaviour of a rumbling stomach which he so obviously didn't possess. If they were to have any chance of getting out of there his partner had to be able to keep his body quiet or at least as quiet as possible when your body was made solely of bones. And to do that, he had to eat. And to eat, and that was the problem, he had to steal.

"Skelamon," he said after some deliberation, "Grab as much as you can, we've got to go."

"Out?" Skelamon asked, the word coming out slightly garbled from the piece of bread in his mouth. He swallowed, and it was gone, as if absorbed by his body.

"No, not yet," Hesire answered after a few seconds, still fascinated by what he'd just witnessed.

"You want to go find that girl? You think they captured a Chosen, like you?" Skelamon questioned.

"Don't you think so either? What could be rarer than a human in this world? But even if they didn't, someone was taken. So grab what you can and let's go."

* * *

The alley between two houses was narrow, too narrow for most of the larger digimon Eboni had seen, but wide enough for their little group. Without hesitation Ahmose went into it, leaving the wider street behind. 

From the beginning he had set a determined course, looking at his small handheld device every now and then. How he could be so sure he was going the right way she couldn't tell. And neither was he telling how he knew, which felt sort of infuriating. When she asked last he just showed her the digivice, like that was supposed to explain everything.

Some seconds into it the boy stopped at something and Eboni was about to ask if he'd gotten them lost when she saw that there was something in front of him, lying in their way and propped against the right-hand wall.

He observed it for a moment before resolutely stepping over the form and moving on. Behind him Plotmon and Leormon were quick to leap over it as well. Finally she could see what it was that had been dropped there. It seemed like a candelabra with three arms, with the middle one somewhat larger than the other two which were slumped on the sandy ground. Its flames burned dimly and it was snoring.

Careful not to wake it she and Alraumon were the last to pass and also the last to leave the alley on the other side. Once again they were in a large street, though unlike the previous one this one was livelier, and seemed like a bazaar of sorts.

"T-this is," Alraumon started, her expression brightening somewhat from the despondent look she seemed to slip in from time to time. Worry over her partner was eating her up inside.

"This is where they took her," she finished.

Eboni couldn't help but feel amazed; despite her misgivings Ahmose did seem to know where he was going.

"How do you know where you're going?" She asked, but like before he only showed his digivice. He didn't even turn around to do so.

"I don't suppose you could be a tad more specific, Ahmose," she bit back at him, calling his name in a condescending manner.

The boy stopped and turned slightly towards her, looking a bit to smug for her liking. Crossing her arms in front of her chest she waited him out. Ahmose began by stretching out his arm, showing the digivice resting in his open palm.

"I know where to go the same way I knew how to find you before. This digivice has a tracking mode for other digivices. Look, this is mine in the centre and yours right next to it."

He pointed out the map showing on the display as well as the two dots representing them. Then, with the press of a button he changed the scale of the map showing a few dots close together further on the map.

"Oh, I see," Eboni said, fiddling with her own handheld to bring up a map for her own.

"If you'd taken the time to examine it first, instead of trying to get squashed by an ogre, you'd have known it too," Ahmose said, knowing he should have kept his mouth shut the moment he spoke the words.

Angrily she whipped her head up and stared him down, "Well excuse me, but I didn't need any help. It seems like you went for the wrong person, mister genius."

And with that she barged past him, taking the lead with a brisk pace.

"Stupid," he silently berated himself. Somehow the girl made him behave like his brain had taken a leave of absence.

* * *

Ma'at, both a concept and a goddess, could basically be summed down to doing the right thing. On a higher level it was a concept of truth and order, of justice and of the balance of the universe itself. Representing this was a goddess of the same name, born of Ra after he rose from the waters of Nun. Without her it was said the world would return to chaos, to the gods of Chaos of Nun. In the old days it was the duty of the Pharaohs to uphold it. 

After death, when one was to be judged in the underworld, their hearts were weighed on a scale. On one end of the scale would be the heart, the collection of everything a person had done in life, and on the other would be Ma'at or the feather of Ma'at. If the weighing wasn't satisfactory, when the person hadn't been living according to the concepts of Ma'at, the heart would be eaten by the Devourer of the Dead, Ammut. This would be the final death, complete oblivion.

Hesire looked at some of the food in his arms, most of which had been eaten by Skelamon already, and wondered whether he had done the right thing. One of the things that went against Ma'at was stealing and there was no denying he'd done just that, not with the loot still in his hands.

The two arrived at the other end of the hallway Apemon and Goblimon had come from earlier, passing by several more doors, most of which were closed but luckily not locked. They passed these quickly, figuring that the girl would not be left unguarded and so wouldn't be in those rooms anyway. Since they had no idea where the captured girl was their best bet was to trace the steps of the two who'd captured her in the first place.

"If you were a bandit king," Hesire said quietly, "were would you hide your prisoners?"

Skelamon thought for a moment, "Somewhere secluded, so no one could easily get to them. Somewhere away from any way out, so even if they got loose they wouldn't get very far."

Hesire nodded, agreeing with his partner's reasoning.

"You can't fly can you?" Skelamon asked, though he was pretty sure the answer was no. After all, Hesire would have just flown into the building instead of scaling the wall.

"No," the boy answered.

"How about falls from great heights," Skelamon continued, following a line of though that seemed likely to him.

"Not that either."

For Skelamon just being around the boy, even for this short amount of time, was a great learning experience. Some of the stories about the Digidestined, the Chosen ones, especially those told by certain groups either made them out to be near god-like or just a step away from pure evil. But his meeting with Hesire put a lot of things in perspective, but more importantly showed him that they were far more vulnerable than most digimon above baby stages.

"Than I'd put her as high in this building as possible," Skelamon concluded, "No easy access and no quick escape routes."

"That sounds right," Hesire agreed, "Let's go find a way up then."

Creeping along through the hallways, still mercifully devoid of anyone but them, Hesire told himself he did do the right thing. Ma'at was a fascinating concept, something that kept the world, or maybe worlds even, from slipping into chaos. As such he did his best to live by it, but it was also a hard concept to adhere too in a foreign place like the one he was in now, as he had experienced firsthand already. Not even a day had gone by and he was already a thief. However, he thought, he did not steal just for his own benefit, nor from people who had worked legitimately to gain said things.

And really, had he not done so it would have committed a moral crime, turning his back on the truth. The truth that someone, someone innocent, was in trouble and needed help. Without the food his partner wouldn't have the strength to help and they would have no chance of successfully attempting a rescue.

When faced with two choices, both of which were wrong, which one was the right to take? The lesser of two evils he supposed.

* * *

It had taken some time, but the tears had finally stopped flowing. Her cheeks still felt clammy and her eyes were still watery, but at least she had stopped crying. Nephthys pressed her eyes shut, feeling new tears well up just by thinking about it. 

"Stop it, just stop it," she whispered to herself, though she doubted anyone would care or hear her. She was all alone, the guard who'd been in the room before had not returned after Leomon had left, leaving her to despair on her own. With every second that went by she felt herself lose hope more and more, there would be no one to save her.

Leomon was right, no one knew she was held captive but Alraumon and the little digimon didn't stand a chance of getting to her. So she had no reason to believe that anyone else would come to her rescue.

She squirmed against the rough wooden crate behind her, aching all over. Her head hurt, though the pain of being lifted up so roughly had mostly subsided, she still felt very sore. Her upper arms felt chafed, the rope that bound her to the crate had barely given way, causing it to dig into her skin as the only place to go. The same for her upper body, in the moments Leomon had held her up it had been almost impossible to breath. Luckily for her she hadn't been gagged again, but that small favour wouldn't help her to escape.

Leomon had painted a pretty gruesome picture of what could happen to her. He had done so in order to make her cooperate, but also to make it very clear that it didn't matter all that much to him whether she actually did so. Cooperation would be the only thing that could help her now, and he had left her some time to think on it.

In the storage room, bound to a crate and with nowhere to go, thinking was all she could do. She thought of how to escape. The rope holding her feet together still wouldn't budge, but that didn't matter because her feet wouldn't help in getting the larger piece off. She squirmed again, this time feeling a little more freedom than before, but it wasn't enough by far, only a few millimetres more leverage, if at all that.

Nephthys sighed, getting the rope off like that wasn't going to work, but what else could she do? Again she felt tears trail down her cheeks at the hopelessness of the situation. Frustrated she tried to slam herself back into the crate, but tied up as she was couldn't get much of an impact going. It only served to give her more pain.

Getting free all by herself seemed impossible. Even if she could have freed herself from the bonds, that still left the hideout itself. Thinking about it she could picture herself running through endless halls as dark as the room she was in, fleeing from monsters that could be anywhere.

"Alraumon," she whispered, wondering what her only friend in the new world was doing now. However much she hoped for some sort of rescue she could only count on herself now.

Her heart pounded, she could feel it and hear it along with the sound of her own breathing. When she moved, even if it was just slightly, the crate behind her creaked. Those were the only sounds in the room to keep her company. Thankful her gag was off she took a few deep breaths, hoping to calm herself.

She really didn't want to help Leomon, with whatever he wanted her cooperation for. He scared her like nothing had ever done before. Not even that time she had been lost in the desert had been that scary. In fact, she wished she was there now, anywhere but here. But what other choice was there, what would he do if she refused him? Lowering her head she listened to her own sobs and breathing, waiting. All she could do now was try to calm down and prepare herself mentally for when her captor would return to question her.

A different sound, a new sound, made her raise her head in surprise. Leomon had been gone for some time, but it couldn't have been that much. Was he returning already? Nephthys almost panicked, she really didn't want to face him again so soon. But against her wishes, as everything had done from the beginning, the door was beginning to open.

* * *

The leader of the Scratches didn't even pause at the door, flinging it open instead to barge right in. No one would dare reproach him for it; he was the boss after all. Those who did the same thing to him didn't do it a second time, you needed a strong discipline to keep rabble like them in line. 

Leomon surveyed the small room, though calling it a closet would have been more accurate, and its single inhabitant, its sleeping inhabitant. Growling in annoyance Leomon stood right in front of the filthy white robed ghost, who by now still hadn't a clue of the trouble he was in.

"Get up," Leomon said, accentuating his words by kicking the rickety chair the Bakemon had chosen for its resting place away from under him. His kick, no matter how light he tried to make it and this time he wasn't trying to hold much back, was enough to break it apart. He didn't care though, appliances like that weren't all that hard to come by and it wasn't up to par to be even close to being considered for his personal use.

Bakemon didn't suffer the same fate as the seat, but the unexpected drop wasn't entirely painless for him either. Dazed and wondering what had happened and who had dared to wake him so rudely his eyes quickly fell on the lion's feet. Being in such a small room the larger digimon was impossible to overlook. Any remarks he might have come up with died a quick death when he stared into those feral eyes.

Leomon didn't bother to hide his disdain, giving the ghost a withering look. It was bad enough that he had to deal with the incompetence of some of his own boys, but this guy didn't even technically work for him. The ghost was a messenger, like so many of his kind had been before him and would undoubtedly be after him. It spoke well of the ghost's master that he had the influence and manpower to never send the same messenger twice, but the quality of those messengers often left something to be desired.

"What did you do that for?" said Bakemon, a certain whiny note in his otherwise scratchy voice.

Few dared to make a question like that to him, making this ghost either very brave or very stupid. One look in Bakemon's dull eyes showed that it was the latter and, aggravating as it may be at times, it also had its advantages. Messengers who were too smart might try to find ways to use the information they carried for their own use, which was certainly not desirable with his non-official communications.

"It's time for you to earn your keep," Leomon answered, giving a half-eaten loaf that was collecting dust on the floor a disdainful glance, "instead of wasting mine."

It wasn't often he had to resort to this, using messengers like the ghost left a weak link in any kind of dealing he'd rather avoid. But there were times, like this one, when you had no real other choice. Still he kept it short and made sure that only the intended recipient could understand it, just in case something went wrong during delivery.

With giving the ghost his assignment out of the way Leomon turned back from where he came, pausing in his stride when he felt something was off. Though faint his sensitive nose picked up a scent that did not belong.

He had to grin despite himself. Maybe he had been mistaken when he told the girl no one would come for her, maybe someone was already there. If he played this right it might even be possible to increase the profit of his most recent acquisition.

* * *

Eboni led the way with the same determination and drive as Ahmose had before, if not a little bit more. She had motivation enough to do so, though she knew some of those were a bit childish. For one she refused to be outdone by Ahmose, the thought of that was absolutely galling. For another, she really wanted to see where the digivice was leading them. 

The streets had been getting progressively more devoid of life the closer they got to the other dots on the small display, barely noticeable at first but by now they walked alone. Not only that but the houses on either side were empty too, no one appeared to live there, no one appeared to even want to live there.

"We're close to the slums of the city," Plotmon offered in explanation, "You'll find the same all along the dividing walls."

There was logic in the puppy's statement, the slums were an inhospitable and hostile place and even though there was nothing wrong with the homes close to it, the chances of trouble spilling over into the quiet residential area were enough to keep people away.

Looking ahead, then to her digivice and back again, Eboni knew they'd found the place they were looking for. Close, at the end of the deserted street, a large building which was also part of the boundary of the slums, rose up in front of them. It dwarfed the homes around it and it was where the dots were.

"She has to be there," Eboni said, and started to run. Leormon was quick to follow, as were Ahmose and Plotmon right behind her with Alraumon taking up the rear. Part of her knew it was reckless, but they were so close now. Who knew what was going to happen to the imprisoned girl or what was happening right now? Going slow wasn't even an option to consider in her mind, she wanted to save Alraumon's partner as quickly as possible. As such she didn't pause to consider that the rescuers could easily become captives themselves.

Their feet echoed surprisingly loud on the rocky road to the ears of the boy running behind her, the sand that covered it only lightly barely did anything to dampen the sound. He wanted to stop her, but was afraid that calling out could give them away. Eboni had a head start and she ran faster than he did, so he couldn't catch her either.

As they came closer to the building it became clear that the dwellings on either side of the street would end before reaching their goal. The small plaza would give them no cover to anyone watching.

Why does she have to be so reckless? Ahmose thought to himself with increasing frustration. If he didn't do something she would run right into the square, giving them all away, but no solution came to him.

Then, from the last house, only a few meters away, a blue lizard leapt out the front door to bar their path. Surprised Eboni stopped dead in her tracks, while Leormon automatically positioned herself in front of the girl, fangs bared. It only took a second for her to recognize who stood in front of them and relax again.

"You don't want to stand around there," a boy's voice said from inside the house, "come inside quickly."

The voice sounded awfully familiar to Ahmose, but it wasn't till they all went inside that he saw its owner. A boy only about two years younger than the two of them, with short hair that seemed long because of its unruliness and with an easy smile on face, leaned back against the wall next to the door.

"Sethos?"

* * *

After some time of dangerous, but unproductive searching the two intruders believed they'd finally found what they'd been looking for. On a floor close to the top, but not quite there judging by another ascending staircase, Hesire and Skelamon found the first door that was different from all the others. Not by itself, but because of a digimon who sat on a short stool just next to it. 

He hadn't seen them yet, giving the two the chance they needed. Both broke into a run, crossing the distance between them quickly, but not without noise. The wooden floorboards, badly in need of some care, creaked violently under their footfalls. It alerted the guard, but as it rose from its perch it wasted valuable time by gawking at the intruders in surprise. The last thing he ever thought possible was to actually have to his job of standing guard so far inside their base.

When he did move to react the boy and skeleton were already upon him, Skelamon's dull blade flashed out to hit the guard's head. Knocked down he could do nothing while Hesire picked up the deserted stool and mimicked the other's actions. In seconds the guard lay unconscious on the ground.

Giving the fallen thug no further consideration, because Hesire knew they couldn't possibly have much time before someone would come by; the boy tried the handle on the door. The door didn't budge, as they thought it had been locked. Part of him felt happy, if the door was locked there had to be something of value, like a prisoner, on the other side.

When his partner's attempt failed Skelamon picked up a lone and old looking key from the floor, left there after the brief struggle. It was the only key around and if it wasn't the one for the door they'd have no choice but to try and break it down or give up altogether. Fortune favoured them when the key entered the lock without problem and a quick turn of the rusted item took the last obstacle away.

So close to what they hoped to find Hesire discarded all caution and threw open the door, stepping inside the room shortly afterward with Skelamon in tow. He'd set only a step or two when he drew up short at the sight of the tied-up girl. The two kids looked at each other in surprise, neither having truly expected the other. The silence didn't last long, though even a few seconds could've spelled disaster, the sight of the ropes around her reminded Hesire of where he was. Nevertheless, he was relieved; the girl seemed unharmed, with what he'd seen of the denizens of the slums that was a minor miracle in itself. The ghosts tried to eat anything that moved, a fate that had almost been his, but they feared the criminals that lived in the large building. For that to be the case they'd have to be very fearsome. With some concern he noted that the girl's face was slightly puffy from many shed tears and he hoped that the imprisonment was the reason she did so and nothing more.

Nephthys on the other hand didn't look quite so relieved. Skelamon still held his sword and because he walked behind the boy she thought he was bringing in another prisoner. As she watched he came over to her with his sword, which even in the gloom of the small chamber looked rusty. But even a rusty sword could be dangerous and Leomon had given her no illusions of mercy at all. Was this one of his men, or one of those clients he mentioned? Hadn't he given her time to think on his proposal or was he going to make an example out of her? Again she felt afraid.

"Don't worry," Hesire said, surprised at first by her reaction but quickly understanding why the girl in front of him wasn't happy to see them, "We're to rescue you. I'm Hesire and this is Skelamon, my partner."

Nephthys couldn't believe what she was hearing, just when she had given up hope of being rescued someone had actually. Speechless watched the skeleton cut the ropes away, giving her back her freedom. Freed from confinement her arms and legs started to tingle as her circulations became unobstructed, but she hardly noticed it. In an impulse she jumped up and hugged her rescuer tightly, surprising both of them.

"Thank you, thank you," she sniffed, still holding on tightly to the startled boy. Just when she thought she was all cried out her eyes watered over again.

"Y-you're welcome," Hesire stuttered, unsure of what to do or of what else to say.

Skelamon answered for him, every moment they spend in the storage room prison was a moment better spend elsewhere.

"We don't have time for this," Skelamon said, breaking the two apart with the urgency in his voice.

Tightening the grip on his sword he was the first to leave the room and practically ran over to staircase down intend on getting out as quickly as possible. Lucky couldn't begin to describe how well they'd been doing so far, but all the while he felt that it couldn't go on like that for much longer. And now they were several floors up in a hostile place while at first they'd only been on the first floor. Skelamon feared things would go wrong well before they could find their way out.

* * *

"I still can't believe you're here too," Ahmose said, slightly shaking his head. The three human children sat together on the floor of the small house while their companions were keeping watch of the hideout from the relative safety of the roof. It was too small for them all to go and remain unnoticed so they settled for taking turns. The three of them had gone first, with Sethos telling them about following Alraumon's partner and what he had observed after arriving there. Eboni, though she didn't admit it, was glad at first that the younger boy had interrupted her reckless run, but now that they were stalling again with uncertainty. 

"You're lucky I was here to save you," Sethos boasted with a smile.

"What are you two, brothers?" Eboni asked, showing a bit of annoyance in her tone.

"No, why?" Sethos replied, wondering where she got that idea from.

"No reason," she said, giving Ahmose a pointed look, but otherwise leaving it at that. The younger boy looked at both of them without understanding, but shrugged it off as it wasn't really important.

For his part Ahmose knew exactly what she was referring too and that he'd better still thread carefully around her if he didn't want to set her off again. Reckless and spirited, a very dangerous combination as he was reminded of again and again in the short time since he met her. And his friend was completely oblivious to it. All he could do was hope he didn't make the same mistakes around her he had made.

"What's important is what we are going to do now," she finally continued, breaking the silence and turning fully to the smug little boy, "You've been here for a while, what did you plan to do?"

He looked away momentarily from her, though she hadn't meant it as an accusation he was unwilling to admit that even after his boasts of a rescue he really had no idea what to do next. The only thing he had come up with before their arrival was a blind charge, but that had no real way of succeeding, not when he was alone with V-mon. Even if he could've gotten past the three in front of the building an alarm would surely have been sounded by then.

"Maybe," Ahmose ventured, "we could use a diversion to get some of us inside."

"That might work," Eboni piped up, willing to embrace anything now they'd come so close, "but who'll be the diversion and who'll go inside with me?"

"Hold on," Ahmose protested at once, "who said you were going inside?"

"I just did!"

"Well I don't think that's a good idea!"

"What! You don't think I can handle it?"

"That's not it; I just think you'd be better suited as the distraction because you're faster than me. You need speed if you want to get away after getting their attention," Ahmose reasoned, unaware that he was now speaking even louder than Eboni was and equally unaware of his friend's mixed expression, showing him to be both amused and horrified at the same time. Amused because he had never seen the older boy argue like that, but horrified at the time and place he had decided to do it.

It sounded logically, and being the diversion was important, but she still wanted to be the one going inside. That was where the rescue would take place and where she could help most, and besides, speed wasn't only necessary on the outside and she said as much.

"Why don't you both do it, you're certainly loud enough," Sethos interjected with a hiss, all his efforts in getting so far unnoticed were being ruined right in front of him. Ahmose and Eboni looked ashamed, realizing the folly of what they were doing. Both made a decision then, the same one, but the girl beat him to the punch.

"Fine, I'll be the distraction," Eboni conceded, then looked angrily at an opened mouth that hastily closed itself under her scrutiny.

"What?" She demanded.

"Nothing," Ahmose said quickly, very much unwilling to set her off again. Spirited, he reminded himself, very spirited and unwilling to back down.

"It's just that I don't think you and Leormon should go alone. There's three of them, so they might not all follow you and then it'll be all for nothing. And a small group has an easier time of remaining unnoticed, so perhaps Set-"

"Perhaps Sethos should go inside," Sethos interjected, saying the exact opposite of what was going to be said and they all knew it. Ahmose's scowl was especially telling.

"I'm the smallest, so it'll be perfect for me."

"Oh no, do we have to?" V-mon said. The four digimon had come down just in time to hear the plan being made.

"You're not getting out of this one," Leormon smiled wickedly at her friend's plight. She knew how much the blue lizard valued survival and the pursuit of a happy, carefree life, filled with the antics of practical jokes.

V-mon groaned, but it was pretty much just for effect, his mind was already set on going wherever his partner and friend was going. If only it was someplace nicer, it didn't need to be much, just not a den of thieves. Even though, he had to admit to himself, he was a thief as well.

* * *

As Skelamon had feared their luck took a turn for the worst after descending two floors, a chorus of disgruntled voices seemed to be coming up. There was a note of alarm in the sound, as if they already knew what had happened. 

After a brief moment of hesitation Hesire briskly led them away from the stairs in the hope of finding a place to stay out of sight or better yet a way out. If he recalled correctly, and now he was sorry he neglected to count how many floors they'd initially gone up, they were about two or three floors higher than where he and Skelamon had entered the building. Far too high to risk jumping out if they could find a window or a breach in a wall, but maybe they could still make it back there somehow. At least it was a way out, even if it did lead back to the hungry Bakemon.

The small group hurried along the corridor, passing doors left and right. As far as they could see the building's floors were pretty much all the same. Right now they were in the central passage that split the floor right down the middle with a way down, up, or both on one of the two ends.

Another hallway graced the perimeter of the structure, allowing one to walk all around the building along the outer wall.

Nephthys kept looking back, anxious to know if the voices had followed them, but so far she saw no movement. Then they neared the end of their run, but unfortunately there was no stairway on that side, leaving them trapped on that floor while the only way down was occupied.

Hesire opted to keep moving and just turn left, an arbitrary choice, to follow that passage around all the rooms and back to the way down that way. It was too dangerous to stay where they were, if someone came up or down they would surely be spotted. Maybe an alternative way out would present itself, or a good hiding place to wait things out. Before disappearing around the corner the girl took one last look back and was dismayed to see a dark shape coming up the stairs, a shape she dreaded to see.

Nephthys was just about to warn the others, her head slowly turning to look ahead of her, when she bumped into Hesire's back. At first she didn't understand why, but looking past him she saw two more familiar figures, her captors. Her new friends also recognized them as the two who had given them the information of her capture, albeit without their knowledge.

Goblimon and Apemon were sitting a few meters away, surrounded by the remains of their spoils, as surprised as they were at being found. It didn't take long for them to discern Nephthys among the small group and they rose with a small cry of outrage.

That was all it took for Hesire to wheel on his feet, grab hands with both Skelamon and Nephthys and start running the other way. Again the girl looked down the central passage, at the visage of Leomon who was now about halfway. Stumbling a bit at the sudden rush of being dragged along Skelamon's head involuntarily darted from left to right, so he too saw the next danger approaching. He gasped, looking like he had seen a ghost, and even though they had a lot on their minds Hesire couldn't help but notice the reaction.

Though they were picking up speed Apemon was by far the largest of them all and with his large strides crossed the distance like it was nothing. His club of bone gave a mighty lash against Skelamon's back, sending him flying forward in pain. The child digimon was worthless, even a thug in a low ranking as Apemon knew that the other two were valuable and shouldn't be harmed more than necessary.

Still holding on tightly when the blow struck Hesire and Nephthys were dragged along for a few meters before the boy let go to brace his own landing.

"Didn't we tell you it was dangerous out, girl?" Apemon laughed wildly. Slowly the two kids got back up to their feet, edging back carefully but knowing the effort to be futile. The yellow brute made no effort to stop them, content in the knowledge they couldn't go anywhere. Goblimon thought differently though, grinning wickedly he ran at them, his right hand outstretched to grab the girl in front of him.

Seeing him coming Hesire grabbed Nephthys' shoulders, intend on whirling her out of the way so the goblin would catch him and not her, but he knew he couldn't do it fast enough.

"Skelamon!" He shouted, as the clawed hand went straight for her face. Then suddenly the skeletal child was there between them and so was his sword. Ignoring the sharp pain from the club the small skeleton couldn't just stand idly by when his help was needed.

Goblimon couldn't stop anymore and neither could Skelamon, his rusted sword went through the bandit's face as if it was butter by the goblin's momentum. They all watched as finally the goblin stopped dead in his tracks, the sword impaling him through his forehead with just the tip coming out the back. The two digimon stared at each other with wide disbelieving eyes for a moment which seemed to last a lifetime. Then the light went out in Goblimon's eyes and his body degraded into small fragments from the head on out. Nephthys gasped and drew back, incidentally bringing her closer to Hesire. The girl, who had already been through much in her short stay, was in shock by the killing, but the boy knew they had no time to dwell on it. The killer himself, Skelamon, was also looking at his sword in stark disbelief; he had never killed anyone before in his life. Even in the hostile environment of the slums he had always managed to stay out of trouble.

They had a chance to get away now Hesire saw, since Apemon seemed as shocked at what had happened as they were. Quickly he released the girl's shoulders and grabbed one of her wrists. He started to run away down the hallway, dragging the girl along at first before she picked up even more speed than Hesire did. She knew what else was coming for them.

"Skelamon!" He called out to his partner, snapping the child out of his momentary daze. The three ran while behind them Leomon stepped resolutely around the corner. One look at his useless subordinate, who was just standing there, doing nothing, made him snarl in anger. The absence of Goblimon told him enough of what had happened.

"Fist of the Beast King," he growled, firing a powerful blast from his oversized fist. It really wasn't necessary, but he felt it was better if his escapee and prisoner-to-be got a demonstration of his wrath. Like his subordinates he cared nothing for the young digimon that accompanied the humans either, but he would make a perfect example. In fact, now that the young one had seen him Leomon couldn't afford leaving him alive.

The blast, shaped like a lion's head, flew straight at its target, but just then Apemon shook himself from his stupor and flew into a rage. This accidentally brought himself in the line of fire. He didn't stand a chance as the blast hit him in the back. Not long after Goblimon's death he too fell apart.

"Incompetent fools," Leomon shook his head. Ahead the runaways rounded the corner, unaware of what waited for them there.

* * *

Outside, still in safety, the other Digi-destined readied themselves for their own plan. Now outside the house they carefully peeked around the last building of the street in turns. They were restless, feeling both the need to get on with the plan and their sense of preservation conflicting with each other. The hardest part would be for Sethos, but he tried not to think about it too much. Wondering if he could pull it all off wasn't going to help any of them. 

"Let's do it," he said, feeling it was better to just get on with it.

"Alright, then we'll draw them off for you," Ahmose said tersely, worried for his friend's safety. He knew that his friend would do anything he could, once he set his mind to it, but determination alone wouldn't be enough. He reminded himself of how his friend always seemed to stay unnoticed till he wanted it otherwise and if he could pull off the same here he would have the best chance of them all.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Eboni asked, feeling equally uneasy about letting the younger boy go in alone. Well, not exactly alone, but close enough anyway. She didn't know him and didn't have the faith in him Sethos had. To her he was just a little kid, even though the difference was only two years, and what could one child and a lizard do? The more she looked at him the more he reminded her of her own cousins and she couldn't picture them to do what he was about to try. Briefly she worried if they were alright; if maybe they'd also disappeared along with her and were wandering in a strange world alone.

"I can do it," Sethos reassured them, "Just get me a way in and I'll take care of the rest."

"Alright, let's go then," Ahmose said, coming out of hiding and into plain sight of the digimon standing outside. Eboni and their digimon did the same, but for the moment they still remained unnoticed. The few digimon standing outside weren't looking at them, huddled together instead in conversation. That wouldn't do for their plan; they needed to be drawn away.

Opening his mouth to shout at them he was interrupted before he could begin by a loud sound of cracking and splintering wood. Several floors up the beams of wood barring a large window burst outward, showing for a moment an ominously clawed hand. The three guards drew back when the remains of the wood and something grey fell around them and then started to move to the entrance.

"We've got to stop them," Eboni shouted. She didn't know what was going on, but whatever it was it was an opportunity, if they could take out the thugs before they went inside. Together, forgoing the original plan in a second, they all rushed to intercept them before they could get inside.

* * *

The blind rush for safety had halted; they had walked right into Leomon's awaiting trap. Another Apemon, more vicious looking with dirty, mottled fur, and several grey-furred Gazimon, blocked the way in front of them. And from behind, slowly, surely, totally without haste or concern, came the footsteps of the domineering lion. They couldn't go forward nor was there a way back. 

Stray beams of light danced around them from a barred up window to their left, the only real source of light to the hallway.

For the moment it was a stand-off, the others were under orders to block the path but otherwise do nothing unless provoked. Nephthys and Skelamon looked openly worried, but Hesire, while he did share their concerns, just looked on stoically. It was this that really got to one of the Gazimon, enough to even disobey orders. The digimon, intend on teaching the boy to fear them, attacked. This time Skelamon was too slow and his partner paid for that with a blow to his stomach. He went down, his stoic visage changed to one of pain and anger, though more of the latter than the former shone through.

"Stop it!" Skelamon shouted, as Gazimon drew back his arm for another punch, this time aiming for the face. Without thinking Nephthys placed herself protectively in front of Hesire, trying to look intimidating but only barely managing to do so. For the digimon it didn't matter, he could hit her as easily as the boy. Unexpectedly, fuelled by the need to stop the wild assailant from both Digi-destined and partner digimon the digivice flared up with a white light. It surrounded Skelamon and lifted him off the floor.

Gazimon had stopped moving, wearily watching the ball of light that hovered a bit above the floor. Then the light around Skelamon broke apart, the same time the digivice returned to normal, but instead of the small skeleton something else was there. Hesire recognized it instantly as the first digimon he had the misfortune of meeting, a Bakemon.

Skelamon, now Bakemon, looked angrily at the Gazimon who dared attack his partner and was still posed for a punch. Baring a set of wicked looking teeth through an opening in the dirty cloth that covered his body he didn't give the shocked onlookers a chance to respond.

"Hell's hand," he said and at once a large ghastly hand shot out from beneath the cloth to grab Gazimon. There was no resistance as the claw took hold, lifted the other up and then flung him through the barred window. Gazimon shrieked as he and the wood fell several floors down.

But one small victory would not be enough; Leomon was closing in from behind and the digimon in front were to numerous. Even with Bakemon they didn't stand a chance, but maybe they wouldn't have to fight.

Still clutching his stomach, but trying to ignore the pain, Hesire got back up on his feet with the help of Nephthys. She was breathing almost as raggedly as he did, though hers came from fear. The doomed scenario of running through monster filled halls if she somehow got out of her small cell had come true. Desperation started to fill her, but with that came an idea that might just work.

"Skelamon, wasn't it?" Nephthys began quickly, "Please, fly us out the window!"

"What?" Both Bakemon and Hesire exclaimed at the same time, but both quickly realized that it was the only way they could get out now.

"Stop them!" Leomon shouted, but his command came too late. The two kids had already jumped through the opening with the ghost, holding on tightly to his robe. But the ghost's body wasn't that stable, nor was his flight. This was only the first time he'd ever changed to adult form and it was all just too new for him. To all appearances it was more of a controlled falling than flying, though what just what measure of control he had was debatable. Bakemon's body hardly seemed solid and the two riders found themselves all over the place. It was all they could to simply hang on, grasping at the cloth and each other. The landing came quickly but not nearly fast enough for the passengers.

On the ground the ghost devolved back into his child form, looking pretty good after the narrow escape. But both Hesire and Nephthys looked nauseous and disoriented. It was lucky for her she hadn't eaten in a while otherwise it surely would have come out right there. Hesire wasn't as lucky, as he felt the bit of food he had taken come back up through his throat. He suppressed the feeling, vowing that he would never, under any circumstances, ride on his partner again. Getting stuck in a washing machine; that was the best analogy he could think of to describe the experience.

"Amazing," a younger boy said, pulling him to his feet, "You didn't need rescuing after all."

"No time for small talk," another girl objected while helping up Nephthys.

Looking around him Hesire saw they'd fallen right into another battle between seven digimon, out of which he figured four were the partners of the other human children with them, including Nephthys' missing partner. Another boy of his age took the lead, calling for everyone to retreat, but the digimon kept up a bit longer so their partners could get a bit of a head start. Across the small plaza and into an adjoining street, there was no pursuit.

"Skelamon," Hesire asked while they ran. Perhaps it wasn't the best of times for it, but it bugged him enough that he wanted to know.

"What was that before, when you saw that lion guy? It looked like you knew him."

"He's their leader," Nephthys said softly.

"More than that," Skelamon replied, "He's the city's magistrate."

* * *

A hot wind blew out over a ridge of stone overlooking the city, sending particles of sand floating over the rough underground. From above the sun beat down strongly on the desert sands and the lone traveller poised atop the rocks, the breeze that offered little refreshment from the heat whipped his long sun bleached hair around. He kept his dark cloak tightly around his body, sheltering it from the burning rays as well as keeping an oversized hat low over his face. 

Now he lifted it slightly to survey the city in front of him, looking like a tranquil disk. But looks could be deceiving as the large city had never been the peaceful place it seemed from afar. And certainly now, after the light show, a lot of things would be set in motion.

Returning his hat to the covering position it had before the traveller set off for the final trek to the city.


	4. The Wandering Priest

**Duat Diaries**

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**Disclaimer: Digimon does not belong to me. This fic is set in Lord Archive's Diaries Universe and is written with permission.**

**Chapter Four: The Wandering Priest**

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In the quiet moments of the early morning Sethos could almost believe he was back at home, the feel of Burner wasn't all that different in the transition from cold night to a hot day as Cairo. If he ignored the digimon setting up their shops or going about their business it was pretty close to the morning rituals back home. Pretty close, but not the same, no matter how much he might have liked to pretend otherwise. He missed his home already, but accompanying those feelings was excitement for the biggest adventure he could have wished for. Like any child his age he had dreamed of other worlds, of thrills unknown to his own. Often he had felt bored back home, as if life just didn't quite cut it back there.

The escape yesterday had been most exhilarating, to say the least, and the reason why they'd been holed up inside a small house ever since then. Not even a few hours had gone by and already they'd made enemies out of the largest criminal organisation of the city and, to make matters even worse, their boss was also in charge of the local law enforcement if Skelamon was to be believed. None of them had any reason to doubt the scholarly skeleton.

And so, with those threats hanging over them, they had holed themselves up, quickly going through the few supplies they had. Ahmose, fortunately, had a packed lunch with him and there were a few items in the house, a small stash of Alraumon's, but it was hardly enough for even a day, not with their considerable number.

Sethos had wanted to go out and find some of the things they would need, but the majority had voted to stay put. How aggravating that had been, he knew he could do what was needed, but they had felt otherwise. At least that girl, Eboni, had been more or less on his side. She too had wanted to go out again, on that much they had agreed, but she had wanted him to remain at the house. It was the same as when they had tried to infiltrate the Scratches' hideout, only at that time he was able to sway them out of pure necessity.

"It wouldn't have worked anyway," he said to himself. At best he would have been allowed to go out under supervision; he very much doubted that anyone would be allowed to leave the house by themselves. Even if 'by themselves' meant with their partners. He couldn't blame them for being so cautious, after all he had front row seats to the near-disaster that was yesterday. And none of that had even been his fault; he was not the one who lost track of his surroundings while arguing, that had been his older and supposedly wiser companions. Sethos shook his head, still bemused by what he had seen. It had taught him that if he wanted to help his old and new friends he would have to do it alone.

That was why, just before dawn, he had slipped outside without a word to do some exploring of his own along with V-mon. So far that had already paid off, as the two of them had seen several guards on patrol. According to V-mon they were making their presence a lot more known than they had just a day ago. Leomon wasn't wasting any time in trying to apprehend them, so it wasn't just the criminal element of the city they had to contend with. Invaluable information, but there was something they had an even greater need of.

"V-mon, let's go find some food," Sethos said, slipping out of an alley behind the retreating backs of the city officials. If he was going to get around a good scolding he had to come back with more than just some information.

* * *

The same atmosphere that Sethos had found slightly soothing, like remembering a good dream after a night's rest, was the start of a nightmare for the ones he had left behind, even if they didn't know it yet.

In the second floor chamber everything seemed alright, even better than alright for Alraumon. The young plant girl sat blissfully against one of the walls, resting her head comfortably on her arms.

Even though they were wanted and not out of danger she could remember only a handful of times where she had been happier. After so long the small house she called her home was filled again with her friends, new and old. She looked at the sleeping face of her partner, the sweet girl she had always wanted to meet and had almost lost forever if it hadn't been for the others.

"You seem happy," Leormon remarked, stretching her body after having slept curled up for most of the night. The hackles of her fur were raised briefly, settling down again when she approached and sat next to the other girl. They spoke softly to let their partners get a little more rest, but with the sky outside getting lighter the human girls started to stir.

"I am," Alraumon replied as the kitten lay down on her belly next to her. With nowhere to go and no real inclination of going back out into the bustling city anytime soon they both simply watched their partners till they woke up. The two girls lay close together on the rough mats they used for sleeping. Far from comfortable those mats were still better than lying directly on the ground, though they were a tad softer than the sandstone floor that wasn't the most important reason for using them. That reason tied in directly to the snug position the two girls had assumed. While the days were hot the nights were far from it, the sandstone was unable to store any body heat, in effect siphoning it away. In contrast the mats did not and as the girls had found out they needed all the heat they could get.

Leormon's keen ears only picked up a few faint sounds coming from the ground floor where the boys had spend the night, indicating that a similar scene was, or would soon be, going on there. Given the temperature of the night, not something that affected her much through her fur, she had been a bit surprised at the vehement way the girls, or rather, her girl, had insisted on separate sleeping arrangements. Given the way the boys' faces had reddened a bit they weren't much inclined to disagree with Eboni's demand. Curiosity begged her to ask herself if they had come around from that decision after their first cold night, but only time would tell.

To her it seemed an odd thing to be embarrassed about; when she and the others had been younger they slept together all the time. Back before she had grown to her current form she had experienced the cold a lot more and she remembered how uncomfortable it had made her feel.

When Nephthys opened her eyes, blinking a few times to get the sleep truly out of them, she had no idea where she was. The room was not her room and she was not lying in her own bed, she wasn't even lying in a bed in the first place. Her confusion didn't last long as she ascertained that yesterday's events had truly happened and weren't part of some strange and horrible dream.

It had to be real; her body was aching too much for it to be anything else. Even with the mats the hardness of the floor couldn't be dampened and, combined with the coldness of the night air through the unobstructed windows made for a very uncomfortable night.

Still, in that moment, she couldn't help but think her pain wasn't caused by the night. Perhaps it had increased the discomfort, or merely sustained it, but even before going to sleep she had ached there. No, that was over, she was free again. It was all over and she wouldn't go back there again.

As Nephthys tried to get up from her foetal position she noticed a weight against her back, her warm back. Shifting slightly she saw that Eboni was pressed against her with her arms wrapped around her shoulders, but with her attention focused on her aches and lack of proper sleep she hadn't even realized it. She blushed, more of surprise than actual embarrassment and carefully wormed herself free while attempting to keep the still sleeping girl undisturbed. Given the way they were entangled it was a futile attempt.

"Good morning," Eboni slurred, closing her eyes again after a brief moment. The older girl rolled over, leaving Nephthys free to move around. Eboni sounded like Nephthys felt, but freed from the girl's hold she remembered holding on to her partner during the night. Leormon had also slept close by, her fur a slight haven of warmth, but unfortunately she had been too heavy to serve as a blanket. Now they were gone.

"Good morning," Nephthys replied softly, looking for the two missing girls. She quickly found them sitting against the wall near the way down. Surprisingly she was extremely relieved that they hadn't left and could offer, no matter how small, their protection. How unlike her, back home she had felt more at ease alone in the desert, away from the buzz of the big city. Things had quickly changed, painful memories that were still fresh in her mind brought the fear back again.

"Are you alright?" Eboni asked in concern. Even though they had both just awoken the older of the two girls immediately noticed the change in demeanour. Impulsively she hugged Nephthys before she could answer, guessing that her new friend needed at least a small sense of security.

Yesterday, even for some time after their escape, she had seemed alright. It wasn't until the two of them were alone for a few moments that she showed she wasn't. Eboni hadn't pried the girl for what had happened to her during her capture, but whatever it was it had left a deep impact on the ten year old girl. Back then all she could do was let her cry out of her shoulder and be there for her.

"I'm fine," Nephthys replied, sounding a bit more collected. It felt silly getting scared if she thought she was left alone, that wasn't like her at all. Or at least, it hadn't been like her before. Even though she was free again she couldn't help but remembering her encounter with Leomon. With them still in the city it was only a matter of time before he found them. Again she mentally stopped herself from continuing on that path, going as far as to even fear the fear that lay on the end of it.

After a few seconds Eboni released her grip on Nephthys, sniffing the air and the girl she had hugged disapprovingly. She hadn't thought about it before, just like she hadn't thought about how cold nights in their part of the digital world were like, but normally she always took a shower in the morning. Unfortunately just like there was no glass in the windows there wasn't a shower or other bathing utility anywhere in the house.

"Leormon, do you have any showers around here?" she asked. Though it wasn't all that bad now, considering the running in the blazing sun yesterday, it wouldn't be long at all before they all smelled completely of sweat. There were no things they could use to wash themselves in the house, but the digimon in the city had to bathe somehow, right?

"What's a shower?" Leormon asked, the latter word rolling oddly off her tongue. Eboni's heart sank, even though it could be possible they knew it under a different name, if she considered the dry outlook of Burner it was very likely they didn't have it at all. As she let out a groan there was a noise coming from below.

* * *

Hesire kept his eyes closed for as long as was possible, though he was no longer asleep and hadn't been for a while he had no desire to get up just yet. The boy sat against the far wall near the back and the stairs up, as far away from the open doorway as possible. But given the smallness of the house they occupied it didn't matter much in terms of staying warm. Hot days and cold nights, just like back home, he thought. For a place called the Digital World it was surprisingly natural, with nothing technological about it. In fact, given the feel of the city, it almost seemed as if they had been transported into the past.

It was an incomplete past though, houses back then had been devoid of glass for the windows of course, but had instead been covered with a latticework for keeping out the heat and the sun. There was none of that here, though perhaps other homes had been better equipped. He tried to recall if he had seen anything of the kind, but with all that had been going on he just hadn't paid attention to any of that. He did remember the windows being barred at Leomon's hideaway though, but that knowledge didn't help much. They couldn't go back there to either stay or get the wood they would need to equally bar their windows. It seemed backwards, blinds for the windows had always been used to keep out the sun and extreme heat, but here he was thinking of using it to keep out the cold.

Hesire finally opened his eyes, avoiding problems by keeping his eyes closed while thinking of those problems at the same time just seemed silly. The sight that greeted him almost made him wish he was still asleep. The only problem he really wanted to consider at the moment was how to get something for breakfast, but that wasn't going to happen.

Already up and about Ahmose was pacing in front of the door, periodically looking outside as if he was anxiously waiting for something, or someone. Looking across the room the source of his concern became evident.

"Where's Sethos?" Hesire asked without preamble. In the short moment that Ahmose looked at him, the worry easily discernable in his eyes, Hesire knew enough of what was going on.

"Oh no," he said with resignation, a bit louder than he intended.

Within seconds Eboni and Leormon rushed down, with the other two girls trailing behind more slowly.

"What's going on?" She asked.

"Sethos is missing," Hesire answered.

"Where is he!" Eboni questioned harshly, her penetrating gaze locked firmly onto that of one of the boys. Already she was annoyed by the absence of a much desired shower and this only added to that. Once again Ahmose found himself on the wrong side of her temper and for something he had no control over either.

"I'm not his keeper, you know," he said testily.

"Well you should have been. What were you doing that he could just slip out whenever he pleased?" Eboni continued her questioning.

"We were sleeping obviously," Ahmose said sarcastically.

Hesire sighed, he hadn't been there when they had gone at each other before, but he was sure getting a first rank seat for the show. Of course the other boy wasn't solely responsible for not watching each other and it was probably just a matter of time before the girl's ire would shift to him or the digimon. Calmly, and unnoticed by the arguing party, he stood up from the hard wall he had been sitting against. Another good example of how the digital city differed from what he knew of his country's past. Homes had been made of bricks of dried mud, a cheap but not so durable way of constructing houses. The houses here were made of seemingly more durable stuff.

"Placing the blame isn't going to get us anywhere," Hesire said, wondering briefly if he had done the right thing in interjecting himself into the lively discussion. The way Eboni angrily looked at him gave him pause, as well as Ahmose's surprised look. It seemed they had forgotten he was even there. But it was the relief he saw, ever so briefly, on the girl he had helped yesterday that told him he was going on the right track. All they had was each other and, while he wasn't really a people's person, he somehow had to keep what was left of the group together if they wanted the best chance for survival. Everyone had to die at some time but there was no need in hastening that inevitability.

"What's past is past, now we've got to focus on what to do about this."

The others nodded at the sensibility of his words and calmed down, hopefully now he could press this advantage before someone suggested something problematic.

"We'll have to look for him," Eboni suggested.

"Hadn't we already decided that going out was a bad idea?" Ahmose said.

Eboni shook her head, "That was then and this is now. He's just a kid; he could be hurt out there or he could be dead."

"If it is his fate to die there's nothing we can do about it," Hesire observed, the casual way in which he spoke silenced anything the others were planning on saying.

"That's pretty cold," Eboni finally said.

"But it is the truth. He chose to go outside and thus chose to carry the responsibility of that choice. If that is his fate, who are we to interfere?" Hesire explained, but by the look on the girl's face it was far from satisfactory. He didn't know how to express himself differently though, not so she or the others would agree with his point of view.

"Sethos can take care of himself," Ahmose said with conviction, "If anyone can survive on these streets he can."

"He's not a street kid, is he?" Eboni asked with some disdain.

"No, not exactly," Ahmose said hesitantly, debating with himself whether he should tell them more. It wasn't really his place to bring up his young friend's situation, but if he didn't they might get the wrong idea about him.

"He hasn't told me much about his life at home, but he did tell me once he often argues with his father. For some reason they can't see eye to eye. Sethos spends most of his time on the streets because of it," Ahmose explained.

"So he's had a tough life," Leormon remarked, "So has everyone else in this place."

Ahmose sighed, "Look, all I'm saying is that he knows how to survive,"

"Where you come from maybe, out here it's difficult enough for us to survive," Leormon insisted.

"She has a point," Plotmon said.

"So what do you suggest then, that we go out there too?" Ahmose questioned, clearly torn in two. On one hand he wanted to go out and look for his young friend, but on the other, the more rational part of his mind, he knew that would be a mistake. It was a big city, everyone was looking for them and they had no idea where Sethos could be.

"Yes," said Eboni, predictably, at once. She shook her head, rubbing her forehead as if she had a headache. Exasperated she said, "This is getting us nowhere, we're just repeating what we said yesterday."

"What we need is to make a decision," she said while looking at her hand, "And a shower or something."

"You won't find that last part here," Hesire said with a certainty that seemed unfounded by the other kids.

"How can you know that?" Ahmose asked.

"This city doesn't appear to be very different to how things were in our own pasts, several thousand years ago," Hesire explained, suddenly being in his element. While his interest were mainly focused on the ancient gods a full understanding of them was impossible without a firm knowledge of the culture that worshipped them, "There are obvious differences, like the material this house is build from for example. But that's probably because the geography of this world. Anyway, the essence is still the same."

"What does that mean?" Eboni interrupted.

"Please, let him continue," Skelamon said, his inquisitive mind focused completely on learning more of this otherworldly past. The possibility of such a parallel between the two worlds was a far too interesting subject to let rest. If Burner did resemble the past of his partner's home world, what could that tell them about the future of their own world?

"What I mean is, that houses back then were small, usually with only a few rooms and a kitchen," Hesire continued patiently. He knew few people shared his interests in the past, especially not people his own age, but he was sure they needed to hear this so he had to be patient with them,

"Only the dwellings of the richer people had the luxury of baths and so far I've seen no real differences between any of the houses in this city. That means none of them will have a bath. In the old days most people had to bathe in the Nile or use public bathhouses if they were available. Maybe we can find something like that here, but otherwise our best bet for a bath would be to find a river somewhere, if there are any."

A lot more could be said about how their people had valued their hygiene and how they had gone about taking care of their health, but for now he felt it sufficed if he kept things only to the basics. If he was right, which he didn't really doubt, than taking care of themselves would involve more than just finding food, water to drink, getting through the cold nights and staying out of trouble.

"But," Nephthys spoke softly, "What about Sethos?"

She had spoken so rarely, content in leaving the discussions and the decisions being made to them, that it was easy to forget she was even there. But she remembered how Sethos, along with the others, had tried to help her, a girl they didn't even know. The least she could do in return was try and help him in return, even if it was just by bringing attention back to his absence. The question was a valid one that needed quick answering, despite the divided stance on the subject.

She too would rather stay in the house instead of the open streets, but sometimes you just didn't have that luxury.

* * *

Being back in the city brought back memories, both good and bad, of other times. The good times with friends in the bustling streets, then more so than they were now, and the bad times when all of that ended. His gaze fell on where the slums now lay, a lawless environment that had once been a place to call home. He hated the city, hated what it did to him whenever he returned, so as a consequence he rarely came at all. If he had his way he would still be as far away from the place as he could, his station allowed him enough to do elsewhere in the domain of Pharaohmon.

But things had changed recently and they had begun here. That begged investigating and his interests had been raised by the five shooting stars that had supposedly fallen here.

From a flat roof he observed two figures moving stealthily through the alleys close to one of the bazaars. Nothing really out of the ordinary there, street urchins in search of food to steal were a rising trend, even outside the pool of decay that Burner had become. What made this pair so interesting was that he recognized the V-mon, but not the entity he was with. No digimon he had ever seen looked like that.

For some time the pair had been observing merchants setting up their shops, waiting for them to get careless, but they were out of luck this morning. Small groups patrolled the streets, all with the marking of a shining round disc, in search of something. Two of them were coming their way now, only a minute or two after the previous group had passed. Watching merchants and guards at the same time was just too much for the would-be thieves to capitalize on any lapse in the merchant's attention. This much activity by the city guards was unheard of and piqued the wanderer's interest, Burner wasn't a city known for changes and this extra activity was definitely a change.

Leaving the would-be thieves for what they were for now he rose from his perch and levitated down to the street below. Ignoring the whispers that followed his flashy entrance he approached the two approaching guards. For no more reason than the fact that he could he threw a hostile glare at one of those merchants, a Mud Frigimon. The brown merchant hurriedly looked away. Downtrodden, that was the best word to describe these people, he thought. No wonder lawlessness was at an all time high, nobody dared to do anything about it.

The two guards had noticed his approach; to them he must be the one out of place. Depending on the reason for the increased patrols, something still a mystery to him, they might try something unwise.

He wasn't looking for trouble with the local law, quite the opposite in fact, and any misunderstanding now could have been avoided if he had simply gone directly to the magistrate in the first place. However, as always, it felt more worthwhile to first check out the situation without his views being influenced by politics. Keeping his appearance as impassive as he could the traveller appraised the two guards, a Gotsumon and a Golemon, nothing he couldn't handle should fighting become inevitable. The two weren't an uncommon sight, already he had seen similar pairs walking around all over the city. The majority of the city's law force was comprised of rock digimon.

"Good morning gentlemen," he said to them, keeping his staff strapped to his back as a sign of peace, "May I inquire as to the grounds for the intensification of your particular vocation in these parts?"

A particularly bloated speech like that would most likely go right over the heads of the simple guardsmen. The two rock digimon looked at each other in confusion, supporting his assumptions on their level of intelligence. To get the answer to his question he'd have to ask it again in simpler terms. But, seeing how their postures relaxed slightly, the goal of that particular phrasing had been met. To them he appeared scholarly and not at all threatening. A smart, yet naïve, fool who'd walk the streets with his only weapon strapped to his back. How wrong that assumption was, but it had served him well enough in the past and would do the same now.

"What I mean is, why are there so much more patrols around? Did something happen?"

Again the pair looked at each other, trying to decide if they should tell the stranger anything at all. The delay he was causing in their patrol schedule was getting bigger by the second, and with a serious boss like Leomon you didn't want to have to explain any deviations to his orders.

"There are reports of dangerous strangers in the area causing trouble," Gotsumon announced in a self-important tone, as if he had personally seen those dangerous people and lived to tell the tale. That tone told him that the patrols, or at the very least this one, didn't really have any idea what they were looking for. Nor was the Gotsumon truthful, he was a stranger, but they weren't arresting him. That told him they were most likely looking for that unknown being he had seen with V-mon and that there were more than one. Five, he thought suddenly, connecting the unknowns to the five shooting stars. Interesting.

"Now just move along," Golemon added, shooing him out of the way with his oversized arms. Tipping his head the wanderer did just that, taking a look over his shoulder at the place he had seen V-mon before. But the pair had already left and, by the looks of a confused merchant nearby, not empty-handed.

* * *

For a moment Sethos slid his back down an alley wall, coming to a rest on the sand. A roughly put together barrel, filled with some spoils or another, stood next to him. Whatever was in it, he hadn't taken the time to check yet, was heavy. Even with the help of V-mon carrying it around was taxing. Again he had stolen something, which was unfortunately becoming a trend. But without money what else was he, were they, supposed to do?

The boy smiled depreciatory, he was becoming more and more like a street rat. If his father could see him now, he thought, remembering all the derogation he had encountered, both spoken and un-spoken of the unfortunate people forced to live on the streets with nowhere else to go. Invariably his thoughts strayed back to the moment where his views of those people had changed, but he shook his head, unwilling to recall it.

Instead he looked sideways, past the barrel, to his partner in crime. V-mon didn't seem too bothered by what they had done. Thinking about it Sethos supposed that he didn't much mind the act of stealing rather that he felt he was somehow breaking the expectations placed on him.

"What are you doing?" Sethos asked. The blue lizard was looking over a large piece of fruit while rubbing some reddish weed all over it. Due to the natural tint the contamination was barely noticeably, if you didn't know what to look for it was impossible to discern that something had happened to it.

"Nothing," V-mon replied innocuously, finishing his handiwork with a mischievous pride. Tossing the thing back onto the others in the barrel he grinned at Sethos, "You'll see it soon."

Sethos shrugged; while he wasn't all that happy that his partner was messing with their procurements he doubted he would do something to ruin everything. If they rationed their food it could save them another foraging trip. That was what he hoped anyway, but the optimistic thought didn't take into account just how much a digimon could eat.

"Let's continue," Sethos said. With all the patrols in the streets it didn't do to stay still for very long in an alley as open as the one they were in.

* * *

"Where have you been?" Eboni demanded, the anger in her voice only barely covered the worry underneath. Ignoring her for the moment Sethos and his partner carried the wooden container to the table. It was probably best to put it in the smaller storage right away, but after the journey getting it back neither of them felt like it.

"Out," Sethos finally shrugged, wiping some sweat off his brow. Already the temperature outside had risen considerably in the time they had been gone. Hauling a heavy freight about was more exhaustive than he had originally envisioned. Of course he also hadn't thought it possible to acquire the amount of food they had either. A lucky bonus that didn't quite carry over to the reception, but then he really hadn't been counting on it anyway.

Leormon jumped on the table with a feral look in her eyes.

"How can you be so irresponsible," she hissed at V-mon.

"Lighten up," V-mon replied, unfazed by the hostility, "Aren't you just angry we went out before you did. Tell me you didn't want to check out what's going outside."

"Shut up, you don't know what you're talking about," she replied, but even though she denied the accusation V-mon knew he was, at least partially, right. Leormon was never the type to stay put for very long, the fact that she had done so now was nothing short of amazing. But, as he looked at her partner he knew why she had. The same reason he had gone outside when he had rather stayed safe in the house, for their partners.

"Alright, I'm sorry," V-mon said, taking a large red piece of fruit from the top, "Here, a peace offering."

Even to Sethos his partner seemed sincere, but he had seen him with that same piece earlier. The cat, more aware of V-mon's unreliable history, looked at the offering with some scepticism.

V-mon smiled disarmingly and set it down in front of her, though Leormon made no move towards it, still unsure whether or not to accept the thing. Her growling stomach decided for her though so she rolled it closer with her a paw. For a moment, when she wasn't looking, V-mon smile changed to a smirk. Only Alraumon noticed, now smiling as well, but she said nothing. To Leormon nothing seemed wrong.

"Where is everyone?" Sethos asked suddenly when he noticed he was only being berated by Eboni. The only other people present were Nephthys and Alraumon, but they kept to themselves.

"They went out looking for you," Eboni said, "over an hour ago."

"They did what?" Sethos paled. He recalled the pace they had set, resting up, carrying the load, hiding out of sight and the necessary backtracking needed to get back safe. With such a pace it was impossible that they hadn't been able to find V-mon and himself. Not with that tracking ability the digivices possessed. Though their range was limited, for one it was impossible to track someone from one side of the city to the other, it should have been enough. Unless, they had run into trouble, which had become harder and harder to avoid, especially if you didn't know what you were doing. Neither of them had any experience in going about unnoticed in a busy city, at least as far as he was aware.

"V-mon, let's go!" He said while running back out the door. Eboni started to object, but he cut her off, "You girls stay here, there are too many guards about."

Still Eboni rushed to the door, but the boy and digimon were quick and she didn't want to risk shouting to whoever could be out there where they were. Again she was being left behind and there was nothing she could do about it. She glanced back over her shoulder at Nephthys and knew she couldn't just take off on a whim no matter how much she wanted out of the confining house.

"Everyone always takes off," Alraumon said.

"Boys," Leormon shrugged, taking a bite from the fruit she had been given. Almost at once her expression changed and she started to yell out as her mouth felt like it was on fire. Only one awkward syllable managed to escape before tight vines wrapped themselves around her head.

"Water, we need water," Alraumon said, refraining from sounding bemused, while tightly constraining the struggling kitten.

* * *

The small group ran for dear life through the streets and alleys of Burner, no sooner had they ducked in one alley in an attempt to evade the pursuing guards or they'd be seen by another patrol coming out the other end. Neither of the two human boys could have imagined the strength of the city guard was this much. If they hadn't known the true colours of their leader they would never have believed any criminal organisation could match up to them. Even for Plotmon and Skelamon, residents of the city for all their lives, it was an unbelievable spectacle. It would've have served as a sign of hope that there was still order if they hadn't been the ones on the receiving end of that order.

Hesire thought himself a fool now at how seriously they had underestimated just how far Leomon's reach extended. The arguments used to sway the girls to let them go out after the youngest member of their group were completely worthless now. Ahmose knew him best, so with the help of their digivices he would have the best chance of not only finding him, but anticipating the boy's moves to get ahead of him. And he would be accompanied by Hesire, whose knowledge of their world's past could help them understand the city now. If he could've found a bathhouse, or a place of similar usefulness, the dangerous venture would have been worth it.

Hesire knew he shouldn't have gone out, the guards would be looking for more than simple strangers. He had forgotten that Leomon had seen them and would have surely given out their descriptions, of a black haired humanoid, unlike any other inhabitant of the city, accompanied by a Skelamon. Of course they'd be recognized the moment they had gotten out in the open.

"We have to go back," Ahmose said, looking at his digivice to find out which way let back to the house. Finding his friend was no longer on his mind, first they had to get to safety themselves before anything else could be attempted.

"No," Hesire said, his voice holding the same cold certainty as when he had dismissed the need to help out Sethos, "We can't go back or we'll take the whole guard force with us."

They came out of another alley, but then the inevitable finally happened as they ran right into a small guard patrol. Four burly digimon, among which a certain mottled looking Apemon that Hesire recognized, stood surrounding them. The primate grinned, recognizing both Hesire and his partner, and the similarity to their last meeting. Now though there was no window to escape from.

"So that's how it is," Hesire muttered as if they weren't on the verge of being captured. The corruption and leading a double life wasn't limited to just the chief of the guards.

"Plotmon, do it!" Ahmose commanded.

"Puppy Howling," Plotmon exclaimed, releasing a sound from his small mouth that could only be described as pure pain that paralyzed the guards long enough for the small group to break out of their circumference. Unfortunately the noise explosion did alert the other patrols in the neighbourhood that something had happened.

With Hesire in the lead they raced through another small space between buildings, intent on leaving the street as far behind as they could. Other patrols would soon converge there and they wanted to be nowhere near when they did.

Already the guards had shaken off the debilitating effects of Plotmon's scream and tried to pursue, but, for them, the passage the escapee's had chosen was too narrow. Finding another way through would take too much time for the Golemon, but the group wasn't out of trouble just yet.

Long strides brought Apemon to the other side of the street and in just a few bounds he was on the flat roof and in pursuit. From a nearby roof a cloaked figure grinned at the carelessness of the Plotmon and his companions, though he had only managed to catch a glimpse of them he knew they were very different from the other hunted he had seen. That small boy and V-mon had been more covert, more careful in what they were doing. Setting off an alarm like that, even to escape, caused more problems than they solved. With Apemon in pursuit though, they wouldn't get very far.

The small group left the alley, unaware they had a stalker going parallel with them on the roof. Halfway down to yet another narrow passage, and the only way they knew to stay ahead of the larger guards, a huge bone club slammed into the ground right in their midst. The shock send them sprawling, covered in the sand that the club had sent into the air. As they tried to get back up on their feet a large shadow flew over them.

Still crouched Hesire looked up into the smirking visage of Apemon as he picked up his bone club menacingly. Skelamon reached for his sword, but his partner's outstretched arm stopped him.

"Don't give him a reason," he warned, but for a moment it looked like they were going to be crushed anyway. A conflict of interests played itself out on the primate's face, as a guard he was under orders to bring them back alive, but as one of the Scratches it was better to take out the worthless digimon and take the other two away. When the voices of other patrols made their way to their position Apemon grumbled, but stayed his hand, the choice was made for him.

* * *

Waiting was the hard part Eboni thought as she tapped her fingers on the low table she was sitting at; her eyes were downcast as if studying the patterns of the wood. The table wasn't really made of wood though, at least not the kind she was used too.

It didn't help at all that Sethos had seemed so stricken, so worried, when he heard others had gone out to find him. She didn't know what he had seen out there, but it had to be bad. And now they were all gone. The passage of time seemed to go by so very slowly and every second seemed like an eternity. Were they on their way back, were they captured and if so, would the house be safe for much longer?

To get her mind off things she looked up and past the barrel of food, still sitting on top of the table with her. Hastily discarded by the deliverers when they had run out instead of being put in the storage out of sight it was still there now. Though she was hungry, living off nothing since arriving in the city, she couldn't stomach anything. Her stomach growled, but she ignored it, she just felt too worried to eat. What if they needed her help and she were eating while she should've been with them? It was amazing, she thought, how quickly she had gotten so emotionally attached to people she hadn't even known a day ago.

Pacing around the room, feeling as miserable or perhaps more so at being confined, Leormon occasionally made a grimace as if she was tasting something particularly bad. It had to be the aftertaste of what V-mon had put on the fruit. But in the absence of any water all they had was other fruit to cool her down. Even now the young cat could still taste the fire in her mouth caused by the weed he had used. She should've known better than to accept anything from a born trickster. In a tense environment as theirs there was no way he could resist lightening the mood.

With nothing better to do Alraumon followed the swearing cat around, patting her on the back and offering another piece of fruit whenever the urge to rant about the awful taste in her mouth returned. Leormon seemed slightly annoyed, but as she knew the plant digimon only meant well she bit back her tongue. When V-mon returned she'd let off steam on the one who actually deserved it.

Eboni looked away from their antics only to find something round and blue right in front of her face.

"It looks strange, but it's pretty good," Nephthys said, "You should really eat something or you'll collapse."

The quiet and soft-spoken girl sat at the other side of the table and had taken a more practical approach to waiting things out. After assisting her own partner in calming down Leormon, squeezing out juice to allow the cat to drink, she hadn't wasted much time in eating something herself, despite the odd way the things looked. Eboni wondered what she was thinking about, if she had the same doubts she did. She knew Nephthys was right though, starving herself wouldn't do anyone any good.

"Thanks," she said, accepting the oddity. Surprisingly the quiet girl had been right; though it looked strange the taste was actually pretty good. Her stomach agreed with her taste buds, settling down as more bites passed through her throat. It helped in clearing some of the distractions plaguing her mind and give her renewed focus. As her stomach settled from lack of nourishment so did her mind. Eboni realized it had been a huge mistake in splitting up in the first place, a small group might remain unnoticed a lot better and easier than a large one, but it wasn't as if four more people really made a difference. With all the guards out there looking for them, as Sethos had confirmed, they stood a better chance together.

And there was something else, something she was still trying to give a name to, a feeling. At home she always had to listen to others with little regard for what she was thinking. Part of it was because she was still a child, another because she was a girl. Not that she was mistreated, perish the thought, but her family was very conservatively set. Being restricted, like watching her playful niece and nephew, was a way of life she knew well but didn't particularly like. When she had found herself in the presence of her partner in unknown streets she had felt completely free.

Suddenly she stood up, leaning forward over the low table, drawing the attention of her three companions. Her face set in resolve it was no mystery for them what she wanted to do.

"We're going after them?" Leormon asked eagerly.

Eboni nodded and Alraumon groaned audibly, after everything that had happened yesterday as well as the general reluctance she had to leave her small home, she really didn't want to go. She would though; she wouldn't leave her partner alone again, not after what had happened.

Nephthys looked equally unwilling to go out, but though Eboni wanted to accommodate her she knew it couldn't be done.

"They've been gone for too long," she said, reaching out with her hand, "If they're in trouble we have to help them, with anything in our power. I know you don't want to go there, I know, but yesterday they risked everything to help you. Shouldn't we do the same for them?"

Slowly Nephthys took the offered hand and rose to her feet.

"I know, but," she spoke hesitantly.

"Don't worry, stay close to me and I'll protect you," Eboni said reassuringly.

* * *

Though nothing had happened, yet, Nephthys found it hard to be as calm the girl leading her onward. One street seemed the same as another, the same kind of dull buildings that had stood vacant for a very long time.

There were no guards, nor any of the city's inhabitants out on their course. In a city that size it was almost unbelievable. So different from Cairo where you'd be hard-pressed to find a moment of solitude. The place Alraumon had picked to live in peace seemed like a very good choice and she really wished she were back there now. Anywhere except for the very streets that had landed her in that dark room with someone who, without a doubt, was the most evil person she had ever met. All things considered it could've been worse, but even though she hadn't been there for very long the experience had made a deep impression on her young mind.

But she couldn't ignore Eboni's words either and the thought that anyone else had to go through what she had was almost as hard to bear as leaving the safety of the small home behind. She just hoped that neither of them would come to regret their choice.

Leading the way Eboni turned into yet another connecting alleyway, this one wider than the last ones. One thing she noticed while they were walking closer to the centre was that things got bigger, such as the alleys and streets as well as the buildings. A worrying thought that crossed her mind was if the same was true for the inhabitants. She imagined Leomon's scarred and muscular chest and shuddered.

Compared to the full glare of the digital sun the relatively sheltered side-road was almost godsend, not that the air was any less hot, but at least there was nothing beating down on them from above. Her survival sense, the very same thing that had saved her young life back on Earth, started to reassert itself after the mind numbing terror that had addled her thinking every since her capture the day before. While they were looking out for a tangible threat in the form of other digimon they had ignored what she knew to be a more insidious killer, never sleeping, never relenting and never recognized until it was too late, the very world itself. She considered her dress and how it left her open to the elements; she considered how clammy she felt, at the water she was losing and the absence of anything to replace it with. At the rate they were going the lion that scared her more than anything in her life didn't need to do anything to get rid of them, they would do it to themselves.

If they were even given the chance to though, barely halfway through a cloaked figure dropped from the roof to land near the other end. At once Leormon, hackles raised, leapt in between him and her partner. The two human girls moved closer together, prepared to run away at any time.

To Nephthys it seemed almost exactly as the last time she had been out on the streets. Was this guy one of Leomon's minions, a guard or a rogue and what was he going to do to them? From what she had seen of the city so far no one bothered anyone unless they had bad intentions. The wizard's appearance, in those clothes that was what he reminded her of most, could only be someone to cause them trouble.

Seconds went by with none of them moving; calculating eyes that were barely visible under his wide-brimmed hat seemed content with only observing them. It was a stalemate that couldn't last, neither of the two parties had any time to waste.

"It's been a long time," Wizarmon said, ignoring the cat's hissing. She wanted him away, but he was afraid he couldn't oblige her. Leormon's fierce expression showed some confusion, the voice she heard was familiar but she couldn't remember seeing him before. Alraumon didn't share her friend's confusion.

"It has," she said, finding herself under the scrutiny of her friends, especially Leormon To her it came as quite a big surprise to learn that the quiet plant, content by tending to her small house, actually knew someone outside their little clique.

"You're looking well."

Wizarmon shrugged, "Wish I could say the same for you, but you've been keeping some interesting company these days I see. Tell me, what's your involvement with those troublemakers that have gotten the guards all riled up?"

"It's not what you think," Alraumon replied, "we did nothing wrong."

"That's not what the guards are saying," Wizarmon said, confidently standing in front of them with his arms crossed. It was hard what to make of it, was he just extremely confident confronting the people that an entire guard force was after or did he know they weren't as dangerous as people were let to believe? Nephthys hoped, whatever it was, that he could be reasoned with. At least if her partner knew him he might not be that bad. But, looking into his eyes, all she could think of were her former captor's eyes and that didn't mean anything good.

Leormon seemed to feel the same way and she bit off with more bark than a dog, "You're not a guard, what's it to you? Out to make a quick buck like a common thug?"

"We don't have time to stand around here, if you won't move we'll just have to go through you," Eboni added, but the bluster didn't seem to have any effect on the lone sorcerer.

Alraumon seemed stricken, she knew where she would stand if it came to a fight, but she really didn't want to fight with him.

"Can't we talk this through?" Nephthys spoke up at her partner's discomfort. She too wanted to avoid anything unnecessary, if that was at all possible.

"What is there to talk about?" Wizarmon asked, giving them a chance to explain themselves, despite the hostility aimed his way. That in itself didn't bother him and with what he knew of their companions he could afford to take his time, not much, but enough.

"You've caused a very tentative order to become seriously unbalanced," he continued, "You can't seriously expect me to let that slide."

"It wasn't our fault," Alraumon said, her voice barely more than a whisper.

"You're a priest," Leormon realized.

"A priest?" Eboni asked, to her the boyish wizard looked anything but a priest.

"I see, they haven't told you how things are in these lands," Wizarmon said.

"Yesterday was a very trying day, it wasn't that important," Leormon replied.

The wandering priest couldn't help but raise the corner of his mouth slightly, from the girl's ignorance concerning the priestly orders, one of the largest driving forces in the region under Pharaohmon; he had already deduced that they were new here. But now Leormon had just confirmed to him that they had only arrived one day earlier, right when the falling stars had occurred. That turned his conjecture into fact and helped put things more in perspective. Getting information from them was almost easier than getting it from the guards, which was somehow a bit disappointing.

"These lands were ruled by a powerful digimon called Pharaohmon," he started to explain, "I'm sure they've already told you that he has been assassinated, but under his rule he created several factions in charge of maintaining the stability of his domain. The foremost order is that of High Priest Anubimon and has, as a primary focus, the task of information gathering. Even so the majority of the order is made up of the Death Guard that protects the priests who need protection."

He left the implication of being alone and therefore in no need of any protection unvoiced, but he could see that Leormon considered it. If the way her eyes scanned the alley and the rooftops was any indication. She needn't have bothered, he had come alone. While at times the intimidating presence of a guard force were useful more often than not it hindered in acquiring information. Here especially it would have proven absolutely disastrous.

"The second largest order is the Phoenix Guard. Where we search for threats, they take them out. Then there are some smaller groups and cults, tolerated for the most part as long as they keep themselves small and out of the way."

"Why are you telling us this?" Eboni asked, still uncertain of where they stood with this guy. He wasn't trying to catch them outright, even going as far as to explain things to them, but that didn't mean he was on their side either. It was so hard to find people to trust.

Again Wizarmon just shrugged, giving the impression that they should just be grateful he was even taking the time to explain things to them, "To make you understand the severity of your position."

He focused his attention back on Alraumon, the only one among them who actually knew him still,

"The company you keep, and the roads you walk. This is not like you, never once did you come close to crossing the line into the unlawful. What's changed?"

"Hey, who are you to talk to her like that? You have no idea what's going on!" Leormon protested, at that moment she didn't care if he was a priest, the way he spoke about them, spoke to them, was so damned smug it made her sick. Not only that, but he denigrated the only one of the priestly orders she truly admired, putting it on the same nameless basis as the cults that were looked upon with scorn by everyone except the cultists themselves.

"Then I give you this chance, tell me what's going on and I might be lenient," he offered, an easy offer to make. Without first meeting with the magistrate, under the current rules of engagement concerning the priests, he had no jurisdiction in the city.

"He took Nephthys," Alraumon blurted out suddenly and only by the small start one of the girls made did he know who she was talking about. It fit, the girl standing behind the protective other reminded him of Alraumon. And the same kind of over-protective fierceness displayed by the cat and the other of the girls showed them to be akin to each other as well. So, she did achieve her dream, he thought, but wondered just why she seemed so sad then.

She continued, quickly telling him just what had occurred to her partner and the reason why the full guard force was out there looking for them. All the while he kept his face impassive, taking the information that the leader of the guards and the de facto ruler of the entire city, in the absence of Pharaohmon, was also the leader of the largest of the criminal organisations that plagued the region and especially the city.

"That's a severe claim to make, certainly without any proof," Wizarmon said.

"Have I ever lied to you?" Alraumon countered.

"Things can change," He said, his mouth hidden behind the cowl of his cloak and his words to silent to be heard. His gaze shifted to the side, as if contemplating what to do next.

"If what you say is true, bringing you to him along with your already captured friends would be a bad idea. However, there's nothing I-"

"Wait, you said they already have our friends?" Eboni interrupted.

"Four of your friends, at the thirteenth square, they are waiting there for a larger escort to take them to the palace," he elaborated.

* * *

Twice in barely two days now he found himself being on the same stake-out, hoping beyond hope that it could be the last. Of course it wasn't exactly the same; things were both easier and more difficult than the last time.

For instance, unlike before there was no compound to infiltrate and explore, the house the others were kept in was only twice as large as their own little hideout was. Unfortunately there were a lot more guards inside and in front of it, so there was no way he could get in unnoticed.

Sethos shifted his weight to another foot and waited, they couldn't stay in there forever and once they got out and moving he would seize an opportunity to move, one way or another.

* * *

The inside of the house was so much larger than what they were used to, but equally more empty, not even possessing the rudimentary table the small house had, not anymore. That lay scattered about in pieces, broken by the Apemon's mighty club. It had taken up too much space for the larger of the guards and so it had to go. Bolted to the ground to prevent thieves from taking it, a measure that had worked for years as it had still been there while everything else was long gone, had left the brute with no other choice than to break it apart. Even so the place hinted at a luxury they never had, and probably never would.

Plotmon, the smallest of the lot, sat in the comforting arms of his partner Ahmose. The room around them didn't interest him anymore now that he had seen all possible routes out were squarely blocked. The opening in the back, leading to the stairs up, was completely obstructed by the hulking form of a sitting Golemon. The front door, seemingly left open, led out into a circle of equally strong guards. Keeping Ahmose safe was all he could think of and he would gladly pay with his life if it meant getting him out of the building. He could do it, conceivably, simply by opening his mouth. But there was no way he could then get them past the many digimon outside the door. He felt Ahmose's arms tighten, as if he was on to what he was thinking, and perhaps he was. Plotmon knew that, despite all odds, if they did nothing they would soon be in the waiting hands of Leomon and he did not doubt that he would be most unpleasant, guard or bandit.

"Those eyes," Apemon said, towering over Hesire with his club in hand, though the tip rested on the floor. Unspoken they had decided to give the guards around them, many of whom could be part of Leomon's clandestine business and have no qualms with crushing them then and there, on reason to make a move. Hesire realized his mistake, having come to terms with the situation he had calmed to the point of given off an air of indifference. His eyes showed no fear; only resolve and that seemed enough for the cruel primate to make an example of him.

"If you make even a single move I'll crush you on the spot," he threatened.

Hesire remembered how the blow by a Gazimon had hurt. If Apemon would do similar, only with his club that could break a solid table with little effort, he would surely die. The Golemon, sitting in front of the way up chuckled, a hollow sound of wind blowing through a tunnel.

"Apemon," the last of the guards in the room said, his tone one of admonishment. Ahmose couldn't help but look a bit surprised as the Gotsumon, smaller in stature, berated the aggressive ape. The smaller guard held on to Skelamon's sword, but by his tone it became clear he was more than just a lackey to carry around their possessions. The thought also crossed his mind that this rocky figure could very well be a true guard instead of the double-dealing Apemon.

"We uphold the law, we don't threaten our captives."

"Just wait until they try to escape," Apemon replied.

* * *

After only a short while, far shorter than V-mon had expected, Apemon stepped out of the building, a feat impossible had the larger Golemon not expanded its size when he had entered it before. Not having been inside the Scratches' base neither V-mon nor Sethos knew the significance of his presence. But it didn't matter, criminal or guard, they still held their friends captive. After a few words, accompanied by waving gestures the guards on the outside formed up. Next out was a smaller Gotsumon, followed immediately by Hesire and Ahmose and behind them their partners. They meant to have the children walk in front, so their partners had less of a chance of mounting an attack aimed at the guards' backs. Lastly came Golemon.

"They're moving already?" V-mon wondered out loud. He and Sethos watched them all from a door on the other side of the square.

"Why aren't they waiting for more of their men to show up, they've got the time for it," Sethos added.

After a bit of silence V-mon responded, "Maybe they're hoping to lure us out."

Sethos nodded, that was likely what they were attempting. If they tried anything they'd fall into a trap, but the boy knew that he would spring that trap.

After waiting a few moments they left their hiding spot to follow the procession from what they hoped was a safe distance. The last time it had been, but unlike then these adversaries were on guard and expecting trouble, even welcoming it. Though both followers and followed were watchful neither party noticed another presence followed them in turn.

* * *

For a while nothing happened, for a while the procession and the trackers moved equally unobstructed through empty streets. Perhaps word of them had gotten out and the inhabitants had cleared out to avoid trouble, perhaps they had been empty to begin with.

Sethos bit his lip; though the group had left before more guards could arrive he wasn't sure that their hasty decision was of much help to them. Two large Golemon kept up the rear and two more were leading the way with Apemon. The Gotsumon alternated positions between the front, back and sometimes in the middle along with the prisoners. Getting through would not be easy, even with so relatively small a group.

Both boy and digimon wracked their brains trying to find a clear advantage, knowing they still had a little time to attempt a rescue. If need be they could always charge and hope for the best, but neither of them actually liked that plan.

Ahead the last two Golemon passed another intersecting alley and, as they had been doing since the beginning, Sethos and V-mon quickly ran out of the one they were in to hide in the next. This way they could stay within a close distance to the group while still having an escape route, and a head-start, should the worst come to be.

Golemon started to turn to look behind him, but he did so in the same way after every side-street they crossed and so it wasn't unexpected. By the time the lumbering brute had turned his body the two smaller figures had already hidden in the next alley.

Seconds later they peered around the corner, but they were still no step closer to coming up with a good plan.

"Oh no," V-mon whispered, making Sethos flinch by the dread he heard in that voice. At first he wondered if they were discovered, but following his partner's gaze he knew what had upset him.

From an alley further down the street heads peered out, familiar heads. Worse, the leading guards had noticed them as well.

* * *

Nephthys knew for sure then that they had erred. The boyish wizard who called himself a priest had proven trustworthy enough, letting them go with only their word of the truth and at his directions they had found themselves in front of the guard procession. But when she had seen the giant ape among them, recognized him from the brief moment she had seen him before, she knew he would take her straight back to his boss.

It was only the four of them, with only two digimon among them to face the guards head on. Eboni and Leormon didn't seem impressed by the odds, or if they did they were great at hiding it.

"Stop where you are," Eboni shouted, "Release our friends and you won't get hurt!"

Alraumon looked up at her, still standing in the alley, before moving out to stand next to the cat whose hackles were raised once more. But while the young cat certainly wasn't something Nephthys or Alraumon wanted against them she seemed almost pathetic next to the gigantic golems.

* * *

For a moment all inside the large group looked at the four girls standing in their way with pure disbelief, even though the guards had been planning on the interference they hadn't expected this. The brutes laughed hard when the girl's words reached their ears, only the Gotsumon kept his head clear.

A good thing, because as the larger guards had their heads thrown back in mirth, the small group of prisoners were suddenly spurred on with despair.

Plotmon opened his mouth, letting out the keening wail of his Puppy Howling. The change was abrupt as laughter turned to pained outcries. One of the Golemon behind them reacted without thinking, slamming his large fist at the source of the cry, but Ahmose, who had reacted faster, had already started moving, scooping up his partner while he rolled them both out of the way. It brought the boy and his puppy closer to Apemon and the front Golemon, but the fist that would have otherwise crushed them both only hit the ground, even if it was just barely.

Skelamon barrelled into Gotsumon, making a grab for his weapon. The two fought for control, with neither one gaining the upper hand. While the rocky officer managed to hold on to the other's weapon he was unable to do anything else. Without another thought Hesire also threw himself on the two strugglers, but the extra weight didn't help much in overcoming Gotsumon.

"Get off me," Gotsumon said, but over the bloodcurdling wail he was barely audible. Though the wail hurt both sides it still helped the prisoners more, for without the confusion it caused they wouldn't have stood a chance at all.

Unfortunately Plotmon ran out of breath before they could actually escape. Forced into silence the two boys and their digimon were still surrounded. Gotsumon, with his solid body, started to gain the upper hand over the skeleton's sword again and Apemon levelled a malevolent glare towards Ahmose, who had gotten closer than he ever wanted to the primate in his attempt to get away from the Golemon behind him.

"One more peep out of you and you're squashed," he threatened and then looked at the two Golemon at his side. The struggle with Gotsumon didn't get a second glance.

"You two, get them," Apemon commanded to the golems, pointing at the girls. Things were going great; the pathetic escape attempt would only grant them more prisoners for his boss, which he knew was the only thing that might appease his anger at their previous failure.

* * *

Part of her was thankful Plotmon had stopped screaming, the deafening noise was extremely excruciating for her sensitive ears, but now that it had the guards were in complete control again.

With no time to waste Leormon leaped forward, crossing the distance between her and the already advancing Golemon in seconds. One of them lashed out with a powerful arm that could easily crush her, but she had the advantage of both her speed and her smaller size that made it harder for them to actually hit her. As the arm came down she leapt up and used it as a springboard to clear them both completely.

Now within the circle of guards, she bounded against the struggling trio, sending them, and the rusty sword, all sprawling to the ground. As she got up a menacing shadow, resembling a large bone, fell over her, becoming larger with great speed.

* * *

Slower than the young cat and with a greater distance to travel, Sethos and V-mon feared they were going to be too late to make a difference. While Leormon's daring strike had bought Hesire and Skelamon some time it brought her in a far more direct danger than the two boys had been in. The mottled brute turned to consider her sudden presence, turned to consider it by raising his club high above his head and she didn't see it coming.

V-mon wished he was faster, to save a friend he had known since he had hatched from his egg, from when the city had been a livelier place, when there were no slums or Scratches. Everything had to end, just like those happy days, but not like that. Not when, after so many years of waiting, they had finally been united with their counterparts. This was supposed to be a happy time.

Worst of all he knew it was his fault they were even in this mess to begin with, if he hadn't gone out with Sethos the other boys wouldn't have gone out to get captured. Now all of them would either fall into the hands of their enemy or die.

Similar feelings filled his partner and through the digivice those turbulent emotions found an outlet. A surge unlike anything V-mon had ever felt went through him, but he knew what to do.

"V-mon, evolves to," he said as his body turned to light. His body became longer and turned white while his arms and legs disappeared. Armour, mostly white but adorned with red bands and golden markings, formed around his serpentine body ending in a golden flame at the end of his tail. Green hair, almost like feathers, sprouted from the back of his head and free from the helmet. Where his ears used to be two powerful wings now formed, wings that quickly allowed him to cross the distance he had so desperately wanted to cross.

The newly evolved Coatlmon hit Leormon head on before the bone club could do the same, leaving her dazed but otherwise unharmed. Changing directions he then flew straight up and started to circle them, darting in and out of range of the Golemons' arms, providing a much needed distraction for his friends bound to the ground.

Startled at the sight Sethos stopped running, knowing that if he got carried away now he would only make the situation worse. He had to trust in his partner to do what was needed and not get into the circle of danger himself.

* * *

"What are you thinking?" Gotsumon demanded after sighing in relief, "We take prisoners, we don't kill them!"

Apemon snarled, looking as if he was seriously considering using his club on him next, but a scurrying motion on the edges of his sight intervened before he could decide.

Skelamon had grabbed his sword again and though the rocky guard had his doubts now about the party he was in he was still under his captain's orders to capture the dangerous elements.

"Drop it," Gotsumon shouted and prepared to punch the skeletal child. Before he could Coatlmon was in between them, pushing him back by the suddenness of his approach.

Again the flying snake shot up, trying to make himself a harder target and refraining from killing the young guard. They were wrongfully accused now, but if one of the city's protectors, corrupt or not, was killed by one of them they'd stand no chance of showing everyone the truth.

Coatlmon's tail, a shining golden flame of sharp metal inadvertently struck Gotsumon as he changed direction. Like a sharp knife it tore a shallow gash over his face, unable to do more to the gruff surface, except for where it sliced over his right eye. Letting out a cry of pain Gotsumon fell on his knees in the sand, clutching at the now ruined eye socket.

Coatlmon looked shocked at what he had done, at what felt like to him to be just a grazing hit. One of the Golemon that was supposed to go for the girls had turned back at the commotion made by Leormon's breakthrough and Coatlmon's intervention. The serpent hovered above them, out of reach of their arms, to look at what he had done.

"Crimson Curse," he said, releasing fiery gasses at the armoured snake.

"Freeze Wave," Coatlmon countered quickly, releasing from his mouth an ice-cold wave of air to keep the gasses at bay. Flapping his wings again he brought himself out of the line of fire.

"Cover the air in a blanket of gas," Apemon ordered all his remaining troops. With the advantage of speed and manoeuvrability the appearance of Coatlmon made their position too weak. All four of the golems released their red gasses into the air above them, effectively created an impenetrable barrier as long as the hot cloud didn't come back down. Eventually it would, but it before that it would keep the aerial attacks Coatlmon could make away from them.

"Critical Bite," Leormon called out before biting down hard in Apemon's throat, stopping him from handing out any more orders.

Unable to block the attack the primate let out a roar of pain, trying to shake the cat off. Leormon held on for dear life, knowing that if she let go the next thing she would feel would be the massive club. With her teeth in his neck she dug her claws into his chest, securing her position. With a snarl Apemon suddenly threw himself down on the ground, with her in between him and the sand. The blow to her back combined with his weight made her release her captive and a painful yelp escaped her throat.

Released and none the worse for the manoeuvre Apemon and his club started to rise up again.

"Rusty sword," Skelamon shouted, slashing at the ape's legs with his recovered sword, but the blade was too dull to be able to penetrate the muscular leg. A quick kick by that leg send him sprawling too.

"Bone Club," Apemon roared, so even Coatlmon, who had his view blocked off by the menacing cloud, would know what he was about. This time there would be nothing to stop him, nor would he be getting reproached by Gotsumon. The pain the wounded guard felt overwhelmed his awareness of what was going on around him.

One thing the ruthless guard didn't count on though was just how much each of the young digimon would go through for each other. Their bonds were cemented through years of friendship and trust and not even the hottest inferno could keep them from helping each other. Bringing his wings close to his body and closing his eyes Coatlmon went into a nosedive, blindly, trusting in where he believed Apemon to be. The world turned red around him if he had held his eyes open to see, but though his sight was gone he felt all the more the corrosive heat even through his armour.

Scorched he plunged through it, slamming straight into the back of Apemon's head, his aim was flawless. Only then did he open his eyes, thankful he had closed them in the first place. Even now his eyes stung and he shuddered to imagine what would have happened if they had gotten in direct touch with the gasses. Likely he would be in a similar condition as Gotsumon.

Again Apemon roared in rage, nothing was going as it should. Even with a stronger force on his side he was making no headway at all.

"Grab them, what are you standing around for!" He demanded of the golems, who had turned practically into inanimate statues while producing their gas cover. Obeying the commands given to them they straightened up and went for the six inside their perimeter, closing the small space they had left. Apemon jumped over the golems, intend on leaving the prisoners to them. For all he cared they could squash the kids and Gotsumon with them. His goal lay elsewhere, the girl who had escaped from them would make the best prize for Leomon; maybe even enough to forgive the destruction of the other potential ware.

* * *

"Hey! Don't fight to win, fight to get out!" Sethos shouted over to them.

"Puppy Howling," Plotmon once again exclaimed, filling the air with his agonizing screech. But this time the guards had been expecting it and they continued their advance. Coatlmon made a quick circle in front of them, hoping to keep them back for even a second, but still they kept coming. All too soon Plotmon was forced to stop his attack; it didn't have the desired effect and would only tire him out.

"Fossil Wave," the serpent said, letting a stream of grey wind out of his mouth. It blew over a golem's face, locking him in place, at least for a small time. That would have to be enough.

"Run," he said, the first words out of his mouth that weren't attack oriented. The small party of prisoners didn't have to be told twice, with his partner in his arms Ahmose was the first to slip under the Golemon's immobile arms, followed closely by Hesire and Skelamon.

"Wake up," he hissed to Leormon, but the beaten-up cat could barely find the strength raise her aching body, let alone run away.

As the other three golems came closer Coatlmon wrapped his body around Leormon's waist as she was slowly getting back up to her feet, eliciting a squeal of pain from her when he touched her bruised body. But the pain was only a minor discomfort compared to what would happen if the Golemon would get their hands on her. Slowed by her weight he still managed to slip away before the three golems could surround them completely.

* * *

Apemon bounded off the ground several times before landing squarely in front of the three girls. Eboni kept Nephthys behind her, but against the large brute she knew it was a

"Time to go back to the boss," he said, "he doesn't like it when his possessions get up and leave."

"We're not going anywhere with you," Eboni said, but her voice held none of the bluster of before when she had made her challenge. As Apemon advanced, slowly as he had all the time he needed, the two girls edged back. Back to the alley, but they would never make the narrow passage in time. Both of them were still in the range of his mighty club.

Alraumon stood forgotten to the side, paralysed by fear and the horror of seeing the events of the previous day happening all over again. She looked away, hoping to spot a helping hand, but the others were still engaged with the four golems and couldn't help her no matter how much she needed them too.

"Alraumon!" Nephthys screamed, unable to take the thought of returning to Leomon any longer.

"Nemesis Ivy," Alraumon cried, spurred into action. Her fingers extended into long vines which she quickly wrapped around the bone. Bracing herself she hoped to keep him there long enough for the girls to escape, even if it meant she would get captured herself. That thought frightened her more than a little, but just the memory of how emotionally shaken her partner had been kept her going.

"Please run," she said when neither of the girls made a move.

"Let go," Apemon grunted, raising his arm and the club in one swift motion. The sudden movement knocked Alraumon of her feet and lifted her off the ground. Seeing this Apemon completed a more powerful hurl that launched the young plant into the air where she was forced to release her grip.

In an instant her vines retracted into her fingers, the speed of which gave her some discomfort, but no more than the stones would that she was going to forcefully land on. It was almost exactly the same as the last time she had gone up against an Apemon. Again she would be thrown into a wall by a large brute and lose consciousness. She would awaken alone, again, with her new friend once more in captivity. This time, after her escape, who knew what Leomon was going to do to her?

"Nemesis Ivy," she called out in mid-flight, this time sending her green vines to entangle themselves around Apemon's head. Forcing herself to hang on she started to retract her vines again, but this time it was her body that moved and not the other way around.

She collided with fur, and for a moment her face was buried in the mottled hairs, an aroma of musk filling her nostrils. Though she couldn't see him reaching out for her, she knew that he would soon try to throw her off. If he did she doubted she'd get another chance. From where they had stood she had gotten a clear view of what he had done with Leormon, who had been able to launch a far more devastating effect than she ever could. But the words of Sethos gave her an idea, she needn't try to win, she just needed to give them a few moments.

"Gloom Dust," she said and the flower that sprouted on the top of her head responded to the call. A foul smelling cloud of pollen was squirted into Apemon's face, making his body convulse. It filled his nose and his mouth. It stung in his eyes and stuck to his fur.

With a heavy thud he dropped his club, going for his face with both hands as Alraumon released her grip. She fell on her behind and looked up in wonder at the reaction to her pollen, surprised that it had worked. A soft hand grabbed hers and started to drag her along.

"Great work," Eboni smiled, running hand in hand with her friends. They ducked in the narrow alley and were gone.

When he was finally able to see through watery eyes only Gotsumon and the four golems were left on the street.

* * *

It was already quite near the end of the hot afternoon, where the temperature would soon drop to downright cold levels as night set in, when Wizarmon found himself being taken to see the magistrate. He was under escort, a right previously reserved for the sovereign of the area, but now that Leomon had taken his seat in the central palace he had also taken over that custom. In their troubled times he supposed extra vigilance was to be expected, even commended, but after what he had heard he suspected it had more to do with ego than safety.

As such it came as no surprise when his escort led him through the main corridors to the throne room. The same contrast that existed between the slums and the rest of the city existed with the palace. As different as night and day compared to the city arrayed around it Pharaohmon's home portrayed a luxury unlike anything in the region. Pillars and statues, walls without cracks, actual furnishings and spacious baths were but a few of its features. Even so it was starting to decay, food was no longer supplied in quite the quantities as before and water, shipped from the very spring that was the source of the mighty river that flowed past the city, couldn't be found in the baths anymore. There were only a few servants left; most had left as the dignitaries had left when their ruler had been killed in his very home.

The guards pushed open the ornate doors, several times larger than him, but then they had to be to allow Pharaohmon himself, and his guests of larger stature, to enter or leave the room. All of the main passages were of similar sizes to accommodate them as well as show off the richness of its owner.

Wizarmon entered the throne room alone, the guards closing the doors behind him. He had to surrender his staff to them though, as no doubt anyone willing to see the magistrate these days had to do. He gave over his weapon to them without a fuss.

If the palace stood above the city in terms of wealth than the throne room stood equally above the rest of the palace. The entirety of the room was made from the deepest obsidian, stones mined from the deepest parts of the mountains to the east, the home of the largest colony of insect digimon around. Resembling more of a hive than an actual mountain it was there that the rich dark stone could be found and, polished to perfection, Pharaohmon had made rich use of it.

It was the largest room in the palace, with large pillars to support the ceiling but with enough space between each one to accommodate even a Mugen Dramon. Not everything was black, many accents and markings ranging from plain script to intricate carvings and scenes had been made from a shining gold material. Made from the blackest stone the room was far from dark.

"My greetings to you, most honourable magistrate," Wizarmon called out, true to protocol, his voice an acute counterpoint to the rhythmic tapping of his boots on the floor. Another property of the polished stone was that no noise, no matter how small, remained undetected. Spies who'd try to nestle anywhere inside the throne room could be easily found.

Wizarmon walked around the basin situated in the centre of the room, giving only a small glance to his reflection in its pristine waters. It was said a similar basin existed in Anubimon's pyramid, a fact he knew to be true, and that it could be used as a way of communicating between the two. But it could only be used by those that knew how it worked, which was a rather limited group indeed. Leomon for one did not know how it was done, so it was just a pool for him and communications between him and Anubimon, if any, had to be done a more old fashioned way.

Nevertheless he kept it in prime shape, not willing to get on the bad side of the possessor on the other end.

"Likewise, honourable priest," Leomon answered, sitting on a smaller throne on one of the daises leading to Pharaohmon's seat. Even though he was now in control of the city he hadn't made any inclination to sit on that particular throne. Instead he had set up a smaller one a few plateaus beneath it.

"I hear you've been having some trouble," Wizarmon continued, getting straight down to business, "perhaps I can be of some assistance."


	5. The Source of Fear

**Duat Diaries**

* * *

**Disclaimer: Digimon is the property of Toei and Akiyoshi Hongo. This story is set in Lord Archive's Diaries Universe.**

**Chapter Five: The Source of Fear**

* * *

The light of day found Alraumon sitting alone, as she so often had been in the past, but unlike then she sat there of her own volition. She needed the solace watching the dawn on the roof could give her, even with her friends, her most important friends, down in her home. She should've been down there with them. How long had she waited for just this, to have her friends all together again? How unlike her it was to feel the need to be alone at a time like this. 

But in truth it wasn't all that strange at all. After so hoping so long reality couldn't hope to live up to her expectations. The mood in her little home was not as she had always wished it to be. Even before light had broken fully over the slumbering city, waking up its inhabitants for yet another day of going about their own business, hoping to be left alone by guards and criminals alike, the friends had been awake. Awake and arguing.

Alraumon sighed, she had never really liked the silence of the old days, when her friends would only sporadically visit and some not at all, but this, this might have been even worse. She abhorred conflict and that was just what had finally driven her to seek her solace on the roof, soaking in the sunlight that was its own kind of nourishment. She was a plant, and in times like these she held on to her roots.

A shadow fell over her from behind and she squeaked in surprise, even though it was probably one of the others, Nephthys perhaps, coming to check up on her. Though she wished they had called out first.

Her head turned slightly, stopping at once when she saw a dark brown boot behind her. None of the others wore boots like that.

"So you still live in this old house. It's," Wizarmon said, pausing for a moment as he regarded the sounds of a very lively discussion coming from below, "nice."

"Wizarmon," Alraumon whispered, wondering and fearing why the wandering priest was talking with her on the roof. He had let them go the last time, but she knew she couldn't keep expecting him to do that all the time. He was a priest, working to uphold order, and though they felt justified for their actions they had made an enemy out of the city's law enforcement.

"I'm not here to harm you," Wizarmon said, surprisingly kind, his hand gently caressing her cheek from behind. An old gesture from when they were younger, when the city had still been whole. She had nearly forgotten.

"Then why?" she asked.

"To warn you. They know where you are, you're being surrounded as we speak," Wizarmon said, withdrawing from her presence.

"I suggest you leave quickly, find a place to hide where they won't search, where not even the light will go, until things die down," he said before he was gone, leaving the plant girl alone on the roof, suddenly afraid again.

She didn't know why he had chosen to risk everything to warn her, but she was sure he wasn't lying. Quickly she scurried down the small stepladder into her house and out of the sun, suddenly no longer a source of nourishment but an enemy that dispelled all dark places where they could hide, leaving them in plain sight for those that would seek to harm them.

To hide where they wouldn't look for them? There was no place in the city that was safe from the guards; she thought fearfully, nearly getting overwhelmed just thinking about it. Guards were coming to take her and her friends, her Nephthys, to Leomon and that would be the end to everything.

* * *

"It's either him or us," Sethos said loudly, more than a bit annoyed that the others didn't seem to accept his opinion fully because he was the youngest. What was particularly grating was that the difference was only a year or two at the outset. He would've walked away already if he believed he and V-mon could take Leomon alone, but even though his partner, as one of the two so far, could evolve he knew that alone would not be enough. V-mon had, quite animatedly, explained that to him a few times until the blue lizard was sure his partner wouldn't force them into such a situation. With this standstill though he couldn't help but think he ought to try anyway.

"We can't just kill someone in cold blood!" Eboni said, appalled that they were even discussing it.

"Even if he deserves it?" Sethos snapped back.

"Wouldn't that make us just as bad as him?" Eboni asked.

"No," Nephthys voiced quietly, the only one among them who had first hand experience with him.

"Well, maybe we won't be," Eboni said, feeling a bit self-conscious, "But still, we can't just go around killing people."

"We wouldn't be going around killing people," Skelamon said, not seeing the problem the girl was trying to convey. For the digimon life had been kill or be killed for a long time, even though the order Pharaohmon had been imposing was meant to stop all of that, "just the ones, or one, deserving it."

"Maybe that was how he started as well," Eboni voiced, giving a pointed look to Hesire, "Who are we to decide who gets to live or die?! We are not the gods."

"It wouldn't be like that," Ahmose said, though he too disliked the idea of going after Leomon, more for the danger it posed to them than for concern for the brute's life, he found Eboni going a bit too far now.

"Can you guarantee that?" Eboni asked again, so far she was the strongest voice in the house against it, "If I asked you a week ago about the Digital World, would you have sworn then that this place was impossible too?"

"Well," Ahmose said hesitantly, but he couldn't deny that she had a point there. He remembered an old adage saying that power corrupts. He thought of the cold logic Hesire used for his actions and of the eagerness, and disregard for others, to do what he felt was right in order to protect those he cared about that made Sethos who he was. With that in mind he couldn't help but think that they might take things too far in doing what their morals told them was right. And what about himself, how far would he go in order to protect them, or how far would Plotmon go? The digimon were, for the most part, in favour of the plan. They had lived in the city all their lives under the guardianship of Leomon and the terror of the Scratches. Now they knew the two were one and the same, of course they wanted to see justice done. Justice, Ahmose thought, but could they live with the digimon's kind of justice?

Alraumon, looking frantic as she came down the stairs, found that things were indeed still as she had left them, with no resolution in sight. She tried to speak up, but shyness, as well as the raised voices of the others, didn't allow her to get a word in. Her partner looked at her questioningly, reading the worried expression but not understanding where it came from.

"Uhm…"

"But what is the alternative?" Hesire asked, "We can flee the city, but Leomon is well connected and we would have to live as outlaws. How long could we keep that up? He would come down on us like Sekhmet when she was sent to seek vengeance on man by Ra. Leomon is in charge, he's both Ra and Sekhmet, the instrument and the hand that guides it. He won't be calling his wrath off, nor would he relinquish his actions with drinks. We would be in the desert, alone, without allies or friends, with the fury of a regime after us. How long do you think we'd last in those circumstances?"

"I have…" Alraumon futilely tried to interject.

"Or, do you want to bring Leomon in to this High Priest Anubimon," Hesire continued, factually going through their options and their inherent flaws, "We don't have proof so we can't expect him to believe us. And who would? The word of several strangers over that of a Magistrate? That is if we could even catch him and keep him our prisoner long enough to get him there."

"Guards are coming!" Alraumon suddenly shouted, surprising even herself with the outburst, immediately everyone was on their feet looking at her.

"Are you sure?" Ahmose demanded immediately.

Was she sure? Alraumon asked herself. Wizarmon hadn't turned them in to the guards, yet, but neither was he on their side, but she honestly believed he wouldn't just lie to her like that.

"Yes," she lied, "I've seen them coming."

"Shit," Sethos swore.

"Sethos!" Eboni said as if she was reprimanding her younger cousins back home. She never thought herself as motherly, but she couldn't help but feel some responsibility towards the younger two of their group, the unruly boy who was worse than her cousins combined and the shy girl who had cried out on her shoulder after her ordeal.

That was why she didn't want them to go after Leomon, even if it would be better for the city at large if the lion was gone. She wanted to keep them safe most of all. And there was an entire world out there she longed to see; surely they wouldn't need to resort to killing someone to save their own hides?

"From the roof? You saw them from the roof?" Hesire pressed, realizing they couldn't be far off if she had seen them from there. The others were reaching the same conclusion, already Sethos had rushed out with V-mon following close behind.

* * *

When Wizarmon hovered down from the low roof to the street level, touching down lightly in front of the taskforce commander, a one-eyed Gotsumon, the Gotsumon snorted derisively. The magistrate had reacted quite positively when the priest had told him he knew where his outlaws were hiding. He had allowed the wandering priest to join in the operation to catch them, giving him the same authority as the commander of the taskforce was given, a joint operation between the Priests and the city guard could warrant nothing less.

But Gotsumon didn't like it one bit, part of because of his pride in both himself and the digimon he worked with, who had done just fine in his eyes without outside help, and part because he wanted to catch the ones who had cost him his eye himself. Idly his hand strayed to the patch covering the now useless socket, but he stopped the motion before it could well begin.

"And, were they there?" Gotsumon asked, grudgingly accepting from the quiet entrance that the priest was right about his ability to move around unnoticed. As a scout he was better than the digimon under his command, but rock digimon had never been intended for subtle work like that.

Wizarmon replied in a level tone, almost detached from the proceedings, "They were there, but seemed anxious to move. I suggest you go quickly or risk losing them altogether."

* * *

The guards moved fast, barely a moment after Eboni had left the house, the last one to do so; they had appeared on one side of the street. There was no mistaking the rock digimon for what they were and so they ran.

If the warning had come but a moment later, if they hadn't ran when they did, they would've been trapped in the house. As it were the Chosen were already ahead of this group, even if it was just a couple dozen meters.

Sethos, despite being the smallest of the children, continued in the lead for a long time, followed close on his heels by Ahmose, who carried Plotmon around. There was no way the smallest digimon in the group could be able to keep up with their pace otherwise. A bit behind them Nephthys, Hesire, and their respective partners, ran side by side. Eboni kept up the rear together with Leormon.

Driven on by the pursuit they had no time to question the precariousness of their formation or where it was they were going. At the last moment, before the flight, Alraumon had figured out what Wizarmon had been trying to tell her. She did know the perfect place for them to hide, the one place no guard, or anyone else, dared go unless there was no choice. For them this was that moment.

"The Slums, we can hide there," Alraumon said to her partner.

"Good idea," Hesire said, overhearing the plant girl. The fallen part of the city was no place he really wanted to return, in those dark alleys and ruins danger lurked around every corner, as he had found out the hard way when he had landed there. But now that the light was no longer safe for them the dark was the best place to retreat to. No guard would follow, of that he was reasonably sure. He grimaced, 'reasonably' was the key word, it was hard to be sure of anything anymore.

"V-mon, follow me," Sethos said, coming up to a fork in the road. There was a small alley to his right, but he let it go by, following the wider street for a few more meters, several more steps, before veering off into an equally wide side-street to his left. To get away from their pursuers they had to disappear from their sights, even if it was for a short time. The decision immediately seemed to be a bad one as he ran up to a leg the size of a small tree.

"Ah!" he called out in warning, dropping to his knees, rolling and crawling between the Golemon's legs. There were more he saw, Golemon and Gotsumon alike, the main forces of the guards. Sethos realized they had fled not a moment too soon; even a slight delay would have boxed them in between this group and their pursuers. Hands, stony things, moved to grab him, but he rolled and kicked away until he lay on his back. When he tried to turn a Gotsumon grabbed him by his shirt and nothing he could do, save perhaps ripping his clothing apart, would get him out of that hold.

"V-mon head," V-mon shouted, hitting the rock digimon's head with his own in a flying tackle. For a moment the grip on Sethos shirt weakened, enough for the boy to free himself and scurry back until he was sitting against a wall. V-mon was holding his head, but the Gotsumon didn't seem all that hurt.

"Sethos!" Ahmose screamed, but he couldn't get to the younger boy as the four lead Golemon moved on like an impenetrable wall, following their orders to block off the main street. The Gotsumon behind them would take care of the lone boy and the V-mon. But not if Ahmose and Plotmon could help it.

"Puppy Howling," Plotmon said, screaming his lungs out yet again. The nearest Golemon lashed out to stop the puppy in Ahmose's arms, but missed. The two fell back on the sandy ground where a Gotsumon threw himself on them, pinning them down.

"Rusty Sword," Skelamon said, striking the rock digimon's back, but his strokes were less than effective. There was no way he could risk striking at his full strength, now when his sword could also hit his two friends under the Gotsumon's body.

Hesire looked back, the guards in pursuit were coming dangerously close and the ones in front had nearly blocked off that end as well. There was only the small alley to the side.

"Run," he told Nephthys, "We'll catch up later."

"But," she started to say when suddenly Skelamon was thrown roughly against Hesire's back and they tumbled to the ground. The Gotsumon who had thrown the punch to do away with the sword-wielding skeleton, added his weight to his colleague on top of Ahmose and Plotmon.

If the first rock guard had been hard to take, the second one threatened to squash Plotmon in a bloody pulp against his partner's chest. The puppy let out a pained yelp while Ahmose had trouble in raising his chest so he could breath. Spots started to appear in front of his eyes and his head felt numb. He knew he was going to die if the two Gotsumon weren't removed soon, but he couldn't move.

Why wasn't anyone helping them out? He wondered, but a small part of his mind that could still think clearly told him that they were probably up to their own necks in trouble.

Ahmose roared, a final attempt to draw breath into his oxygen deprived body. It sounded so agonizing that Nephthys, after another hoarse word from Hesire to run, broke away and ran into the alley to her right. From the corner of her eye she saw Leormon leaping up and against several Golemon, the ones in pursuit had finally caught up with them.

Eboni was glad; at least one of them would get out of the trap. At that moment Ahmose's digivice flared and a ball of light enveloped Plotmon at the moment when the puppy thought all was lost for them. The two Gotsumon were blown away when the ball expanded.

"Plotmon, evolve to," a voice said from inside, gaining a more mature and growling tone throughout the transformation, "Dobermon."

Before the light had fully faded a Golemon lashed out at the newly evolved dog. Dobermon jumped away, grabbing his partner in his maw as he went, making the Golemon miss completely. Swinging his head to the side he flung the boy on his back where he felt him anxiously grab a hold of his black fur, looking a bit ill from the sudden motion.

"You go too," Sethos said, kicking a Gotsumon in the face to buy him a few seconds. Somehow it worked, but more from surprise on the side of the rock digimon that the child had even dared to kick him than of actually suffering damage. Sethos raised his digivice towards V-mon, willing the same to happen as last time.

V-mon could feel the energy building up inside of him, but he was surrounded by guards who had no intention of letting him get stronger.

"Angry Rock," one shouted, throwing a rock against the lizard's head, dispelling the build up he was feeling. V-mon fell forward on his hands and knees.

"Schwarz Strahl," Dobermon said, firing a black beam of energy from his mouth. It went past the Golemon, just barely, and flew over the heads of the Gotsumon, startling them long enough for V-mon to crawl to his partner's side.

"Run Sethos!" Ahmose, suppressing a kind of churning feeling in his stomach, shouted, "You can't do anything from over there."

Though he was grateful for the timely rescue, what his friend said made the boy grit his teeth. He had to admit that he was right, there was nothing he could do surrounded by Gotsumon on the other side of the Golemon barrier. Not with just a Child digimon. The attempt to evolve V-mon had backfired and Sethos didn't have much of an understanding of how it worked. Could he try to evolve V-mon again so soon after the last try? Would the result be any different surrounded by enemies?

"You'd better escape," Sethos called back, pushing away from the wall to run down the side-street, "I'm not going to rescue you again!"

* * *

Eboni looked around in distress, her partner was only barely able to keep herself in the fight, but several more Gotsumon had gotten around the cat as she darted in between the pursuing guards, keeping them at bay the best she could. But she was just one against many and her attacks had little effect against the tough skin of the guards, something they had also figured. The three Gotsumon were entering the alley Nephthys had just disappeared into. Eboni's eye landed on Skelamon's sword, lying close to her on the ground. Already Skelamon and Hesire were picking themselves up from the ground, but by then it would already be too late. She quickly grabbed the sword, surprised at its weight, and charged the small group of guards. The blade struck the back of one of their heads, making the rock digimon cry out in surprise. It turned quickly, lashing out against his assailant. The blow of his arms knocked the sword right out of her hands and herself to the ground. The other two also turned to see what was happening, giving Nephthys a bit more of a head start, just as the girl had intended. Lying on the ground at their mercy was not what Eboni had intended though.

"Leormon!" she screamed.

"Leo Claw," Leormon said, crashing into the Gotsumon that was standing over Eboni. Her sharp claws dug into the stone skin, but only a bit, and the two went down with the cat standing on top of the guard. Immediately his two colleagues pummelled the cat with their Angry Rocks attack and she went down with a yelp. Eboni, before she could think better off it, drew her friend close to her, shielding her with her own body. Before the guards, under orders to take the humans alive, could stop themselves a few more rocks hit the girl on her shoulders and back.

"Schwartz Strahl!"

The black beam cut through the three guards, deleting them instantly, continuing through the walls of a house to the right of the alley. The building collapsed, blocking off the alley with a heap of debris. Ahmose looked at the devastation in shock; his will to protect his friends had driven his partner to kill the guards. Now they were truly murderers. It was almost enough for Ahmose to actually surrender to them.

"It had to be done," Hesire said coldly, the emotionless words drawing Ahmose back to reality. Angrily he looked at the boy who seemed to have no emotions in the face of death at all, but before he could say anything a fist slammed Dobermon's side, knocking the dog off his feet and against another house, one that had still been intact before the imprint the dog made cracked its outer wall. Dobermon grunted, the pain he had felt from the pile of rock digimon on top of him before he had evolved seemed to come back to torment him. With a slight glow he reverted back to Plotmon, caught again in Ahmose's arms as they both lay on the ground.

"Surrender, there is nowhere for you to go," a new Gotsumon, with only one eye looking at them with almost murderous intent, demanded of them. He stood among the Golemon of the pursuing party, gesturing for the ambushing team to advance. The rage in his one eye told Hesire that he was really hoping they'd fight till the end. Hesire recognized him from yesterday's skirmish. He had seemed like a promising member of the police force then, but his wound had changed that.

"Guards of Burner, are you aware that what you are doing is wrong? You're serving a corrupt system, you're hurting innocent girls without remorse," Hesire said, taking hold of the digivice strapped to the side of his pants, his voice getting firmer with every word, "I see my words mean nothing to you, but know this, know that it is not our destiny to fall here to you. Skelamon!"

"What?!" the one-eyed Gotsumon exclaimed, amazed at the impudence of the boy, especially against such overwhelming odds. If he had just backed down obediently Gotsumon would have taken them all in alive, but now things were different. They were criminals who obviously looked down upon their important function and, he thought as he felt a twinge of phantom pain in his empty eye-socket, they were responsible for his wound. That this boy dared to assume the moral high ground here angered him greatly.

Skelamon glowed bright, feeling the drive of his partner as his own. His feet were the last to leave the ground as he started to levitate and a dirty cloth dropped around his skeletal body. Though he couldn't see it he could feel a ghoulish purple skin form from his bones. Rocks flew his way, but Bakemon only floated higher to avoid them.

"Hell's Hand," Bakemon said, slamming a huge ghoulish hand into the Gotsumon nearest to Hesire, crushing it against the sandy ground. Though he was a scholar and not fond of taking lives he knew there was no choice in this case. Hesire though didn't cringe at the kill as Ahmose had done with Dobermon's attack. His dark eyes simply bored into the commander's single yellow eye, seemingly oblivious to the ever decreasing circle of free space as the Golemon advanced.

"Bastard!" another Gotsumon guard shouted, grabbing a hold of Eboni's short hair to drag her to her feet. She cried out in pain as the rock digimon held her close, holding a fist near her throat threateningly, "Surrender or the girl dies!"

Leormon's eyes snapped open angrily at once and she too felt power flowing through her from the digivice, just as Plotmon had felt when his own partner had been danger.

"Leormon evolve!" the small cat cried out, her body growing into a far larger version of herself with orange fur and dark red manes, the colour of dried blood. Pierced in both her ears she had two large silver rings as well as round beads in some of the larger strands of her mane. Instead of one tail she now had two, ending in wild brushes of fur that almost looked like fire.

"Raiamon!"

Raiamon felt strong, strong enough to take all of the guards on and then some, but something nagged through her pride, the sight of Eboni in pain. She roared, and foolishly the Gotsumon let go of his hostage to stumble back. It was the last thing he did, before her clawed paw knocked him to the ground.

"No," Eboni whispered desperately before her partner could crush the guard. The one thing Raiamon did not want to do was go against her friend's wishes, so she spared the guard. He had fainted so he was out of the fight anyway.

"Golemon punch," a Golemon of the ambushing party, though the lines between the two groups had started to blur, tried to hit Ahmose and Plotmon. A purple claw slammed into the arm; sending the clear hit astray, as well as making Bakemon tumble around in the air from loss of balance. The Chosen boy and his digimon though used the opportunity to stand next to Eboni, shielded from the pursuing group by the cat's large body. Both children looked dirty, their bodies coated with sand and small wounds. Already Eboni's shoulder was starting to turn blue from the rocks that had hit her.

"We need to leave now," Hesire said, breaking off his staring contest with the Gotsumon to run past Ahmose and Eboni's backs. The guards had succeeded in blocking all the street exits, so only those who could fly or jump really high had a chance of breaking the enclosure, but the boy had noticed a flaw in their strategy. All houses looked exactly the same from the outside and he was willing to bet, which he was doing in fact, that they were the same inside as well. Hesire entered the small house to the left of the alley, thankful that Dobermon's attack had taken out the house on the right and not this one. The rubble of that building was now behind enemy lines, and out of his reach. He immediately went for the stone steps in the back.

"Hell's Hand," Bakemon called out, only barely hovering stable again after the impact with Golemon's fist. His left arm still tingled as a result; he didn't want to have to do that again. His right arm slammed into another Gotsumon when the little guard was trying to follow his partner inside the house.

"Get on," Raiamon said, lowering herself so Eboni and Ahmose could climb on.

"Stop them," Gotsumon shouted, seeing his plans crumble before his eyes, "Angry Rock!"

With their leader so obviously going for the kill all other guards let go of their reservations as well, even the Golemon whose only purpose was to block off the escape routes let loose their attacks.

Raiamon leaped, narrowly avoiding the stones thrown at her. Her body was strong and she knew that those attacks were something she could shake off, at least for a while, but her riders couldn't. Red gasses, burning to the touch, started fill the street, but she bounded over them and over the golems creating them.

Eboni, despite the situation, cried out in joy at the sensation of their short flight, holding tight to her partner's manes. She hardly noticed when Ahmose, pressing Plotmon in between them, held on tighter to her waist.

Bakemon hovered hesitatingly above the roof of the building Hesire had fled into, watching the large cat bound off in the distance. All of them had fled a different way, Sethos down the side street, Ahmose and Eboni down the main street and Nephthys through the now blocked alley. He wanted to fly away too, but not without Hesire. The trapdoor in the roof was suddenly thrown open and his partner climbed through.

"Hesire," Bakemon said in relief.

"Run," Hesire reiterated, looking about momentarily for a place to run to. Looking back briefly to the street they had come from he saw a figure with a dark cape and a pointy hat standing not far away on another roof. But just as soon as he saw him the stranger disappeared.

"Who was that?" He asked himself, but shouts from below to demolish every house in order to catch him spurred him on to run. There were many rooftops, all flat luckily, for him to use.

* * *

"Alone again, Alraumon," Nephthys said, checking out her digivice. None of the others were anywhere close, but that was fine, she didn't dare go to them, not when the guard force she had just escaped from might also be that way. She wished she could see them on the little device, but such a thing was outside of its capabilities.

Though she did feel bad about leaving the others behind like that, in so much need and pain it made her sick, she felt they were better able to handle themselves in that situation than she was. The dots on the small display were spreading out so she took heart in that, believing the others had also managed to escape.

"I will do my best this time," Alraumon said.

Nephthys smiled, a tad wistfully, "What happened then was not your fault. Don't let it bother you."

"Yes," Alraumon replied, but it would be a long time before she could believe it.

"The Slums," Nephthys said, changing the subject, "We can hide there right? Hesire said it was a good idea."

Alraumon squirmed, "It's true the guards won't go there, but it isn't safe, that place."

"Neither is this place," Nephthys said. Around them the street had gotten busier; in getting away from the ambush they hadn't realized they had gotten closer to one of the more used streets in Burner. Almost every house seemed occupied and digimon were walking the streets on errands. Looking over her shoulder she saw two Gotsumon walking somewhere behind her, but they didn't seem to realize they were there yet. Nevertheless the young girl picked up her pace.

"Can you take us there?" she asked her partner.

Alraumon nodded, though she had suggested hiding out in the Slums, as Wizarmon had hinted she should, she had no real desire to see that place. Only the desperate and the homeless would think it a refuge, but that was what they had become. She felt some pain at the thought of being homeless; the small house had been good to her.

Suddenly Nephthys stopped walking, looking ahead with something akin to fear. Another pair of guards, still unaware that they had escaped, or even of the entire operation to catch them, were talking to each other as they went. Two pairs, at opposite ends, it was only a matter of time before they noticed the currently most wanted criminals of the city.

Their skittish behaviour did not go unnoticed to the digimon around them and the ones on the street with them started to recoil, leaving them in an increasingly wider circle. So much for using the crowds to slip past the guards.

From the side a bird digimon gestured to them to come to her. Alraumon brightened at the offered shelter from the guards and started to go to the old woman. Nephthys wanted to follow, quickly before the guards noticed something on the street was wrong. But something held her back, making her lay a hand on Alraumon's head to stop her. The old Toucanmon beckoned more strongly now, but Nephthys shook her head, going instead to the other side of the street where an alley, halfway towards the guards in front of them, could offer them a way out.

The friendly façade fell away in an instant, the old bird's appearance matching what Nephthys had read in her eyes to put her on her guard. It was fear and distrust.

"Strangers, it's the strangers! They're here, catch them, catch them!" Toucanmon shrieked.

Foregoing on any pretence at trying to belong there Nephthys and Alraumon ran, the digimon in their way parting instantly to let them pass. In their eyes she saw the same thing as she had seen in the Toucanmon, a deeply rooted fear of what they could do. As if possessed by a deadly disease the digimon wanted no contact with the two girls at all. It made sense, they had been on the run for a few days now, escaping from everyone that came after them. Stories about them, in the desperate times the city had fallen in, must have become widespread by now.

The next street was equally crowded and already on alert from the commotion the two girls were fleeing from. More guards were coming, Golemon this time too, so they continued to run with all eyes on them. There was no alley in sight anywhere on this street, nowhere to flee to except the street itself.

With guards in sight at their left and soon to come up from out of the alley they ran to the right, hoping somehow that there was a way out there. A shop came up with a substantial crowd in front of it. Using the patrons as cover they ran on when suddenly hands grabbed the both of them, pulling them inside a house.

A digimon, still young unlike the Toucanmon that had tried to lure them, that resembled a tree trunk lowered them to the ground. Nephthys wanted to scream, but calmed down when he made a gesture to keep quiet. Woodmon motioned for them to keep to the wall next to the door.

After several anxious moments a Gotsumon appeared in the door opening, but the tree digimon was quick to interpose himself in the opening as well.

"Good day," Woodmon said, looking at the shining disk the rock digimon wore as a badge, "officer."

The two girls did not sit back easily, the sudden shift in Toucanmon's kind visage remained as a clear reminder that they couldn't trust anyone who wanted to help them at face value. But the Woodmon didn't turn them in, keeping the guard talking for a bit until he gave up trying to enter the house. Nephthys could barely believe it, but perhaps she had been too sceptical since her capture by Leomon. Alraumon was nice, so were the other digimon partners, so there were bound to be others as well. But why was it then that now her partner seemed to be getting worried?

"They're gone," Woodmon said to them, standing right in front of Nephthys, "You don't have to worry anymore."

"Thank you," Nephthys said, but any relief she felt did not last long. Though the guards were gone there was something odd about the Woodmon, the way he looked at her. Nephthys swallowed, a lump had seemed to form in her throat, as the Woodmon brought his face closer to hers with an almost feverish light in his eyes.

"You," he said, wetting his wooden lips with his tongue, "You're a Chosen Child aren't you?"

Nephthys didn't answer, but the widening of her eyes in surprise was more than enough for the wooden digimon.

"I knew it, when I saw you I just knew it," he started blabbing, louder and louder, with no regard to who could be listening through the open door, "Bless me with your power, oh Holy One!"

"W-what?" Nephthys asked, cringing as he put his hands on her arms.

"Order of Destined," Alraumon whispered, her soft voice filled with disdain. Some time after the Chosen Children, in lands far away from Pharaohmon's domain, had defeated the Dark Masters and the evil from beyond the Wall of Flame, Apocalymon, two cults had emerged in the deserts of Database. Skelamon had once called this a sign of the failure of their own society as the Priestly Orders were unable to keep the faith of their subjects. To the Orders and their followers the cults were nothing but eyesores.

One of these cults called themselves Apocalymon's Children and threw themselves on the belief that it was Apocalymon that deserved worshipping as the embodiment of their suffering, the God of Unfulfilled Evolutions. Denouncing the Chosen as agents of evil they were no friends of their group.

The other cult, the Order of Destined, believed the exact opposite and worshipped even the ground the Chosen walked on. However their numbers were fractured and their ideas of the Chosen Children bordered on fanaticism. They too were not to be counted as allies.

"The Chosen Children are blessed, granting the power of evolution to the good and striking down those who are evil. I am yours; bless me with the holy position of being your partner."

"B-but, Alraumon," Nephthys said, confused, "I can't, she's my partner."

"She's not worthy!" Woodmon cried, clutching her arms tighter, "I saved you! I saved you!"

"Let her go!" Alraumon demanded, but Woodmon's reaction was instantaneous, grabbing her by her neck before she could do a thing. He took a few steps back, standing in front of the open door, and threw her out into the street.

"She's mine, only I am worthy of being the protector of her holiness! Her cleansing light shall save us all from the oppression of darkness!" Woodmon shouted, drawing the attention of the digimon in the street. Alraumon slowly got to her feet, but though Woodmon weren't the strongest of adult level digimon his fanaticism made him all the more dangerous.

Inside Nephthys shuffled to her feet, seeing the entrance to be blocked she cast about for another way out. The words of Leomon flashed through her mind, "_Someone might just like having a human around, for things that would even make me shudder and believe me that there are few things that give me pause_."

She shuddered, Woodmon certainly wanted to keep her around, but he also wanted what she couldn't give him. Unlike the others she hadn't been able to evolve her partner, even though she had certainly been in enough danger for it to happen. There was no way she could evolve this guy, something he wouldn't take well at all, of that she was certain. She still felt it where he had desperately held on to her arms and she was surprised he hadn't broken them. What would he do if he couldn't be her partner, certainly kill Alraumon first, but what about herself afterward, something that would make even Leomon shudder perhaps? She had to get out while she still could.

"Just stay there," Woodmon told her, "I'll prove myself to you by culling this weed."

"No!" Nephthys shouted, throwing herself against the digimon that looked like a dead trunk of a tree. He moved as if to catch her, but at the last moment she fell back against the wall, making his arms close around empty air. She didn't stop there, but dodged past him and out of the house.

"Run," she called to Alraumon.

* * *

"What was that all about?" Kunemon, a yellow worm-like digimon asked. If he had eyes they would have looked disdainful at the spectacle the Woodmon was making. This was his first time in the big city and though he had heard about extremist cultists this was the first time he had seen such odd behaviour. He had never imaged seeing such sights on his first trip, even though the others had warned him of the behaviour of city dwellers. Things were so different in the hive where he came from.

"Ignore it," his companion, a Flybeemon, remarked, "We should get back to the carts."

Kunemon nodded, remembering the reason why they were in the city in the first place. Burner, the capital of the region, was the largest place of trade on the western side of their mountain range and the only real place where they could trade the stones they mined for other commodities.

"Yeah," he said, watching the two girls disappear from view, leaving only the screaming Woodmon behind. Such shameful behaviour, he thought, wondering if city folk truly stooped at nothing, like he had heard.

"There's trouble brewing in the city," Flybeemon remarked, almost too low to be heard, drawing on his previous experiences as a trader, "I don't think we'll be staying much longer."

* * *

Guards, scared citizens, fanatics, it seemed to the fleeing girls that everyone was after them. Not long after their flight from Woodmon's house, his screams following them as they ran, the guards had discovered them again. Nevertheless they made it to the wall separating the 'civilized' sections of the city from the devastated slums. It had been raised to protect the digimon from the thugs and lawless vagabonds that made their home there, but Nephthys felt they were only deceiving themselves. The wall did not help at all in keeping them safe; it just hid an eye-sore from sight as if that would negate its existence.

"Nemesis Ivy," Alraumon called, flinging her vine-like fingers to the top of the wall, "hold me tight."

The two girls climbed the wall together; dropping gently down on the other side at the moment the guards found the street they had come from to be empty.

"Safe," Nephthys couldn't help but think in relief, but as she looked at where they had landed she had to revise that opinion. Close to the wall things were still light, but further along the atmosphere became gloomy, as if the sun itself had turned its back on the devastated parts of the city. Perhaps it had, she thought as she looked at her partner, it wouldn't be the strangest thing to have happened.

"Find them, they couldn't have gone far," a voice said from the other side of the wall.

"Perhaps they went over the wall," another said, though by his tone it sounded like he didn't believe it was possible.

"Don't be absurd," the first said, "Going over is suicide. No, they have to have hidden somewhere in these houses."

He went on for some time, detailing the search operation, but neither Nephthys nor Alraumon stuck around to listen. They went further inside the dark roads, climbing over piles of debris and through ruined houses when the street remained blocked. They thought about the guard's words, that going into the Slums was suicide, which wasn't hard to believe in the threatening atmosphere of the place.

"Skelamon lived here for a long time," Alraumon said to make them both feel better.

Nephthys nodded, gaining an admiration for the scholarly skeleton for being able to live under these kinds of circumstances. Though buildings had collapsed and it was a rare thing to find a house with all its walls intact she felt nearly suffocated by, what she felt to be, the way everything just seemed to loom over her. Reaching a wider street, like the main vending streets in the lighter parts of the city, didn't help much either. In fact without the cover of the broken walls, though she had felt eyes on her from every dark corner, of which there were many, even then, the two girls felt very vulnerable out in the open. Others felt the same.

"Well, look here boys," Soulmon screeched to the rest of the ghostly gang, "Don't these girls look tasty?"

The Bakemon, seemingly coming from every nook and cranny of the worn street, spread out around the pair. Some staring appraisingly, some licked their lips with their ghastly tongues, but all of them with the same intention. Alraumon knew, though she sometimes wondered at their accuracy, from scathing remarks from the townsmen on the light side that these digimon would balk at nothing that was even remotely edible. Sometimes, when nothing else could be found, they were even known to eat each other. Undead flesh though was some of the foulest things imaginable, so even the hungriest undead digimon thought twice about eating another.

That was why Skelamon, all bones and no meat, had survived there and also why there were hardly any living, or rather non-undead, digimon amongst the inhabitants of the Slums. Only the strong could keep the hungry masses at bay and if you were that strong you wouldn't stay in the Slums at all.

"This time we won't hand over our morsels to those fancy-schmancy creeps in their fort," Soulmon said loudly to the cheers of her fellows.

"That's good to know," Hesire called over, stepping out from another broken building along with Skelamon, "Won't you hand them over to me then?"

"Hesire, Skelamon," Nephthys said worriedly, she was glad to see some true friendly faces, but there were so many, too many, of the ghosts surrounding them.

"Y-you're alive?" Soulmon asked before she could help herself. No one had ever come out of the Scratches' hideout before; to the ghosts it was known as a death-trap. Sometimes some of the crueller gangs made their prisoners break into the building, never to be seen from again.

"Very much so, thank you for your concern," Hesire answered. The ghosts looked at each in surprise and even a hint of fear.

"The rule of the street is that the fittest, the strongest, survive," Skelamon said, "We have survived."

"We are not looking for any trouble," Hesire said, placating them, "Let them come with us and we can all walk away from this in one piece."

For a moment it seemed the ghosts were going to comply, all but Soulmon, fearing that if she backed down now she'd lose too much of the respect, grudgingly given, that kept her in her position.

"You crawled on your bellies like Wormmon," Soulmon retorted, "That is all!"

"Believe what you want," Hesire said, "But believe this, at least, we did not come here alone!"

A loud wail, like a banshee, reverberated through the street as the boy shouted the last word. The ghosts, not expecting this at all, almost fell to the ground clutching at their heads.

Alraumon took her partner's hand in her own and together they ran for Hesire and Skelamon.

"Go through the back," Hesire said to them as they neared the worn-down house.

"No," Soulmon shrieked, rushing for the boy who was ruining another chance for a juicy meal. Meat and salad, a luxury that they were deprived of for so long.

"Necro Magic," Soulmon started.

"Rusty Sword," Skelamon countered, his sword denting the cloth around the ghost's body, disrupting the destructive spell that was about to be unleashed.

A quick form bounded over both Hesire and Skelamon, landing squarely on the ghost with the pointed hat. As if the sword in her face hadn't been enough now the leader of the ghost gang was sprayed out on the ground under Leormon's paws.

Nephthys and Alraumon fled inside the house, glad to see more of their friends show up. Barely a few feet through the door the girl was enveloped in a heartfelt hug.

"Are you okay?" Eboni asked her.

"Yes," Nephthys replied.

"Stay put," Leormon hissed threateningly, though she could not harm the ghost further she did not know that. Appalled by the violence Eboni had forbidden her partner to kill.

"You wretches want food?!" V-mon suddenly shouted, coming around Hesire's legs, "Then go ahead and sink your teeth in these."

The blue lizard threw his arms wide and a variety of fruits fell over the many stones, drawing the attention of all the ghosts at once, even the downed Soulmon. Even Hesire could only gawk, rather undignified, at the sight and waste. They had the upper hand; there was no need to waste food. Somewhere in the back of his mind he wondered where V-mon had gotten those in the first place, in their flight they had to leave the few things they had left behind. It was uncannily how V-mon, and his partner too, no doubt, could always find something edible. Even if they had to steal in order to get it.

"Let's go, quickly," V-mon pressed, shifting his eyes uncomfortably for a moment. Hesire doubted he felt guilty now for spilling their food so that could only mean trouble. Distracted by the fresh food that couldn't bite back the ghost let the group escape without problems. Exclamations of glee, and of a riot as there were more ghosts than food, suddenly turned to fierce cries for water.

V-mon sniggered, earning himself a slap on his head from Leormon.

* * *

Somewhere, in the shelter of a burned down ruin where only a few walls remained, the group had settled down. Everywhere around them there were only shadows and darkness. Even the sky, clear to them without a roof to block it out, seemed darker than it had outside of the Slums. The day was still young, but the companions were seriously contemplating creating a fire, so much like the night everything seemed to them. Somehow the Slums had never recovered from the catastrophe that had befallen it years earlier. Once it had been the most luxurious quarter of the entire city, save perhaps for the palace in its centre, but now was only foreboding.

"So, what now?" Ahmose asked, dejectedly. The contrast of Alraumon's house to their new hideout was a stark reminder of their plight. After this, there was no other place to run to.

"We go after Leomon, of course," Sethos was quick to assert.

"I agree," Nephthys said, surprising even herself. She was afraid of the large lion and would like nothing more than to go to a place as far away from him as she could. But, during her flight in the city, she had seen that she was not the only one who was afraid. Fear was something all the digimon were living with constantly. Fear of the Scratches, fear of the ones behind Pharaohmon's death and the list could go on indefinitely. They looked up to the guards and Leomon specifically, for guidance and safety, unaware that they were part of the problem. Others looked for other forms of protection, like the Woodmon had, but nevertheless the fear remained.

How could she run away from her fear to leave all these people in their own despair? Now that she was aware of it, of their fear and the source, she couldn't look the other way. Otherwise she would be just like the Toucanmon, willing to betray everyone for a small sense of safety.

As she spoke her thoughts the others nodded. If the shy girl, who had more reasons than any of them to refuse going after Leomon, felt like this, than they would support her in the endeavour.

"When are we going to do this?" Eboni said in a resigned tone. Going after Leomon would mean that they had to kill him, there was no other possible outcome to the confrontation. As Sethos had said, it was either him or them.

"Tonight?" Ahmose suggested, "No one will be expecting it."

* * *

"You report failure?" Leomon asked. He was deceptively calm, sitting on his seat in front of the high throne of Pharaohmon. The lion let his gaze go from his faithful officer to the recently arrived priest, who showed no discomfort at the scrutiny. Why should he, Leomon scoffed, the priest wasn't under his authority and they both knew it.

"Explain to me how this could fail. Weren't they where they were supposed to be?" If Wizarmon had lied to them about the location of the fugitives he might throw him in a cell for obstruction of justice, but the priest still seemed unconcerned at the implication.

"No sir, they were there, but," Gotsumon started to say, looking suddenly at Wizarmon with distrust, "But he warned them we were coming!"

Wizarmon let the accusation wash over him, the corner of his mouth rising in a sudden smile, though he kept the lower part of his face hidden from the guard and magistrate. How true that assessment was, even though Gotsumon didn't believe it himself. He was just making excuses to cover his own hide, Wizarmon knew.

"I warned them?" Wizarmon asked, "If I wanted to help them, as you claim, why would I have given out their location in the first place? I did the preliminary investigation and I did the scouting to ascertain their location. At that time I noticed they were getting restless, as I've reported to you, and when you sent out the troops they were already on the move."

Wizarmon stopped a moment for effect, "The fault in this is yours, I did my duty."

Gotsumon seethed, "Your duty?! Where were you when they got away from us?"

"Watching from afar. I am not a guard, catching criminals is not my job. And besides, you had them outnumbered and cornered, and still you failed to catch them."

"Enough," Leomon stated before his officer could respond, hiding his anger, "They have escaped you and are no doubt trying to leave the city."

"Perhaps not," Wizarmon dared to interrupt, "The gates are all well guarded and the lands outside are dangerous for such a small group. I believe they are still in the city."

"Still here?" Gotsumon asked, wondering where the group could possible hide from them. It didn't take him long to reach the most logical conclusion.

"Yes, in the only place fugitives always go. The Slums. I believe they'll hide out for a while before escaping the city, perhaps when it's night and they can use the cover of darkness."

"That is the most likely scenario," Leomon nodded, turning to Gotsumon, "Rally the troops, increase the guards at the gates, in case they try to flee, and keep up a constant patrol around the perimeter of the Slums. They can not be allowed to escape us again."

"But sir, such patrols will leave other parts of the town understaffed, including the palace."

"You believe they'd have the audacity to come here?" Leomon said, "If you and the others do your jobs they won't be able to even set a foot outside. You have your orders."

"Yes, sir," Gotsumon saluted, turning on his heel to follow his leader's commands.

"Then I'll be leaving as well," Wizarmon said, with a slight nod of his head in respect. But Leomon was no longer paying him any heed.

Rounding on his feet he followed the miffed guard outside, satisfied with the work he had done. There was no way Alraumon and her friends would try to leave the city, not if they were telling the truth about Leomon. He knew them, knew of their sense of justice and righteousness, and knew that they would certainly come. The guards were backing them into a corner, just as planned, so there were only two options.

The first was that they would try and leave the city, but only if they had been lying about Leomon in the first place. If so they would be caught by the increased guards and justice would be served.

The second was that they would go after Leomon, as he fully expected them to do, probably the coming night. Nobody would expect it, he thought, except for me. They would find the palace less guarded and he'd get to see the entire scenario play out in front of his eyes, revealing the truth of the matter.

* * *

The twilight of dusk started to settle over the encampment that housed the builders for what was to be the final safe hold against the coming darkness and every future threat to the region. Before, the routine was for the many digimon that worked the long shifts to lay back for a bit or go out for supper right away. They had carried out their duties for the day after all, meticulously adding to the new pyramid around the first. The main temple for the Priests of Death, High Priest Anubimon's Order, would become an impenetrable fortress.

But the routine had been broken that day and all workers, overseers, guards, and priests were summoned to the main plaza in front of the pyramids, before any had even had a moment to rest yet. Some were there with tools still in hand. Murmurs could be heard from the crowd as everyone tried to find out from their neighbours what was going on.

Finally two imposing figures appeared in front of the gathering, the priest Wisemon, first under Anubimon. And Garudamon, the supreme commander of the Phoenix Guard.

This only added to the string of rumours and questions going around the crowd. With everything that was going on Garudamon had his talons full with keeping order in the land, protecting the digimon against the darkness that had taken Pharaohmon. That he was here now could only mean something major.

Wisemon too, had not been seen for a long time. The last thing known of him placed him to the south on some assignment for the High Priest, something of utmost importance. Between the two a majestic figure appeared, the High Priest Anubimon himself.

"Everyone, my deepest apologies for summoning you here today after a hard day of work, before you could even have a break or go out for supper," he began, winning over even the most grumbling of stomachs, the most tired of limbs, with his charisma, "But I'm afraid what I have to say is too important to keep from you. The darkness that has threatened us from behind a veil of secrecy, cowardly assassinating our glorious leader Pharaohmon, has made another move."

Anubimon paused, letting his words sink in, and sink in they did. The crowd gasped, fearful for whatever their enemies had done now.

"They who would plunge our country into war and anarchy, so long ago banished from these parts, have made themselves known in Burner, our very capital. But, in doing so they have made a grave error, for they are known to our Orders now."

He gestured to Wisemon and Garudamon, representatives of the two most powerful groups in the desert realm. A cheer went out from the crowd, instigated in some places by well placed priests, but coming naturally in others.

Anubimon lowered his head, closing his eyes as if it pained him what he had to tell them. When he lifted his head again his eyes were filled with resolve and the gathered digimon took heart in that.

"The ones responsible, the darkness that threatens our very way of life, are none other than the Chosen Children of legend," Anubimon said, pausing again for dramatic effect. This time it was disbelief, for everyone knew the tales of the Chosen Children.

"I know, my friends, I know," Anubimon said, "I couldn't believe it at first either, but facts are facts. The heroes, who saved us from the evil overlords and banished a dark power back to the Wall of Fire, are the ones who killed our ruler.

I understand now the motives of these beings from another world, and it pains me to have to say this. Their motives were not for the betterment of this world; instead they took out the most powerful rivals to their own rule first. Now, with the evil ones gone, they fall upon the ones left, even the righteous, those who would unite to oppose their ambitions. That's why they strike us now, before the truth can come out and they have to face a united world. Therein lies their folly, for now that we know we will not go down, we will not be defeated."

Again the crowd roared, Anubimon's words giving them confidence and the reassurance that everything would be all right. The fact that the Chosen had always been portrayed as a force of good, something the High Priest was now disputing without showing a shred of evidence, did not bother them as they listened. For now they were swept up in his words, the need to believe in something overweighing their better judgement.

"In Burner, where they began their insidious plot, we will put a stop to them instead. Lord Garudamon!"

"Phoenix Guard, form up," Garudamon called out stately, his authoritative voice garnishing respect. At his call flocks of fiery birds, the bright flamed Birdramon and dark flamed Sabirdramon rose up into the air from behind the pyramids, forming up in tight formations as they flew low over the assembled crowd. Their leader, Garudamon, took the lead position as they flew to the city of Burner to purify the capital with their flames; eradicating the scourge that threatened them all before they could spread their corruption to others.


	6. The Night of Fire

**Duat Diaries**

* * *

**Disclaimer: Digimon does not belong to me. This fic is set in Lord Archive's Diaries Universe and is written with permission.**

**Chapter Six **

_**The Night of Fire**_

* * *

Nephthys stood high on the wall separating the fallen district from, to appearances, a prosperous city. Not if you looked closer. Most of the houses were empty, the spirits of the inhabitants were dulled and if fear had a stench the streets would be rife with it.

She could not blame them their fear. No one could understand it the way she could. Out of their group she was the only one who had lived through it. Even now thinking about her captor was like a coil tightening around her heart, making it hard to breathe. Unlike the townsfolk though she wouldn't let it rule her life.

The girl glanced at Alraumon. Ever since that incident her trusted partner was never far from her sight. She was just as afraid, Nephthys knew, of her falling back into Leomon's grasp. With her root-like toes extended Alraumon had firmly entrenched herself in the top of the wall.

Neglect could not completely account for the ease in which the plant girl took root. The stone had become porous and brittle. The waning of spirits appeared to manifest itself in the city's fabric itself. Though appearing solid and strong, the dividing wall was slowly failing.

If the inhabitants of the Slums had desired it they could've torn it down with ease. Nephthys began to have doubts about who were actually protected by the barrier. Though they lived in poverty and filth, the digimon of the Slums didn't suffer from the malaise the rest of Burner had fallen into.

"Are you all right?" Eboni asked her. The three of them were alone on the wall. The boys and all their partners had already scaled the steep climb to the other side with Alraumon's vines as ropes. Behind her, on the Slum side of the wall, a fallen building made for a ramp of debris. Though not quite so easily scalable as it had looked, as some of their cuts and bruises testified too, it made getting outside a lot easier than getting in. More proof, if Nephthys needed it, that the purpose of the wall had changed. The imprisoned had found a kind of freedom within the walls, while outside there was little of it.

"Just thinking," Nephthys replied.

"I was thinking too. Perhaps, perhaps you shouldn't come with us." Nephthys regarded her friend calmly. In the dark it was near impossible for Eboni to read her expression. "You shouldn't have to face him again, after what you've already been through. Alraumon hasn't evolved yet either, it'll be safer if you stayed behind. And if things should go wrong, you can come and save us."

"If everyone thinks that's what's best," Alraumon said.

"No." Nephthys slowly shook her head. "After all we've put him through already, he can't afford to let us live. If he catches us it's all over, you know that. And Alraumon has helped before, even without evolving. When the time comes, she'll do her part. We'll both do our part."

Eboni put a hand on Nephthys' shoulder. "You really don't have to do this."

"Have you ever truly looked at the city?"

"What?"

"Just look and what do you see? Behind us there are cooking fires, and the occasional laughter. It's not the best life, but they aren't cowed. Now look the other way. Every household is dark, silent. Only the palace has light, but does it offer anyone any comfort? And all around us there are soldiers, armed with torches.

The digimon are all hiding, hoping to remain unnoticed in the darkness. All they have is fear. They built a wall to keep their fear at bay, but it still haunts them. Now they make a new wall, one of fire and bodies, to contain yet another fear," Nephthys sighed. "You're wrong; I have to go with you. Otherwise, I'll just be like them. I can't let fear rule me, Eboni, I just can't live like that. I've seen what it can do to people and it's horrible."

"You're not like them, even if you stay behind," Eboni said. "If you are afraid…"

"I am. I know what we'll be facing. Just. Just support me, all right?"

"I will," Eboni said.

"Ahmose has reached the bottom," Alraumon suddenly spoke. Her vines had gone slack, much to her relief.

"You go first, I'll be right down behind you," Nephthys said. She wanted to look at Burner at night for just a little while longer. This sight, she wanted to have it fresh in her mind. Leomon had done Burner a great injustice and it was time to set things right. Perhaps then both she and this city might find peace.

* * *

On another wall, one higher, stronger and wider than the barrier wall surrounding the Slums, Gotsumon overlooked the land outside. Unaware that his mood was mirrored in one of the Chosen he hunted; the desire to set aright a wrong. Elbows on battlements he listened. At night sounds were more telling than sight and carried farther than the latter. Faint as it was he heard the rushing of the great river to the east.

The river was an unassailable presence; it had seen the rise of ancient Burner and would still be there long after it had turned to dust.

Life amongst the digimon of those elder days had been primarily nomadic, with most herds and tribes vying for the lands near the river. Its water and vegetation were of singular importance for a variety of digimon – though some more than others. A tumultuous land where loyalty of kin was all there was in terms of order.

How all of that changed with the coming of Pharaohmon and the kingdom he carved out of a wild land. The future ruler, or so it was said, chose the largest bedrock nearest the river as the site of his capital. Starting first with walls and a base at its centre Burner quickly became the most powerful fortification in the lands, even before it became a city in truth.

Leading his followers together with a trusted, and very select, group of companions, he soon had complete control. And with control he set forth a way of life that persisted to this day. Few still lived who could remember those times, for while a certain amount of order had been imposed the land resisted taming. Of his companions only the names of a few were still known, and only because they themselves had remained in notoriety, such as the High Priest Anubimon. Such a longstanding culture, a legacy that should be protected, that was now in danger.

Gotsumon's scowl increased and he briskly jerked his hand away from his eye cavity. When he wasn't paying attention his fingers found their way to the hole where his eye had been. It itched, though nothing was there. A ghastly wound and the ghost of pain, a scar upon him as the Slums were upon his city.

"They'll pay for what they've done," he said to himself. The rot would go no further. "This city shall not fall to their treacherous ways."

The guardsman turned away from the sands outside to look at the city within. Somewhere inside were the ones he sought. None of the guards had followed their captain up to the top of the stately gate. His mood had warred them all off.

The walls were strong and thick and had never been breached by enemy forces, though they had seen plenty of conflict. There were four large gates, almost fortresses of their own right, at four opposing sides. The gates were barred with tempered wood and Chrome Digizoid, so heavy that much of the gatehouses consisted of an elaborate system of pulleys to operate them.

To get out of the city though one of them, a gatehouse had to fall and held long enough to open the gates. And if they were to try this was the most likely gate, closest to the Slums. Gotsumon liked to think it impossible, but the detachments were too small for his liking. The guards were stretched too thin, holding each of the gates, patrolling the outside of the Slums as well as a roundabout patrol of the outer walls. Unfortunately there were other ways of getting on the walls aside from the gatehouses, a necessity for moving troops in defence, but a weakness in Burner's current state. At least they couldn't go under the wall; the bedrock was too strong for tunnelling. Only a few endeavours had ever succeeded, but those holes had been found and resealed. At least, he hoped they were.

The uncertainty was what did him in; there were too many variables that could be exploited and not enough of his guards to cover them all. The plan was faulty. Not for the first time he cursed the existence of the damned priest who now had the magistrate's ear. And where was he anyways? This plan was his doing; the least he could do was help seeing it through. Yet, after the meeting, Wizarmon had vanished. The priest had proven invaluable in finding them the last time. If they were to try escaping the city he'd do best in tracking them down. Somehow though, Gotsumon questioned the validity of this operation. What if they weren't trying to escape the city?

"If you can hear me priest," Gotsumon said in an angry drawl. Since his wounding anger came all too easily. "You'd better play your part better than you did this morning. Or priest or not, you will regret your failure in the dungeons. This, I swear."

* * *

There were guards stationed at every major intersection, lone islands of light illuminated by a single torch. A cordon surrounding the entirety of the barrier wall, only a single street wide; far better had the guards placed a contingency at the next intersections going outward, just to be on the safe side. Had they the man power they surely would have. Now getting past one group meant escape.

A single burst of wind, unexpected and small, extinguished the torch, plunging the crossroad back into all encompassing darkness. For the guards this was momentarily absolute, their eyes unable to adjust fast enough to the shift. Within that dark bubble anything could move unseen.

With a flap of his wings, audible as only another breeze – hiding what appeared to be the clattering of bones –, the serpentine Coatlmon raced up the street. How long would it take the surprised guardsmen to figure out there was no wind this night, he wondered.

Coatlmon was already halfway between the two intersections before the shout reached him. Apparently the one leading the Golemon wasn't completely stupid. A similar cry of warning came from the group in front of him. It didn't matter, in a few heartbeats he was among them and beyond them, the drag plunging that group into darkness as well.

Soon the trail of extinguished flames would tell of the escape, not to the closest eastern gate, nor the south, but west. Leading ahead of the scattered guardsmen, virtually unopposed the entire way, with only a moderately guarded gatehouse as opposition the Chosen would make their escape. As anxious as the guardsmen were to catching them, they couldn't allow that to happen. Other groups would march, as fast as they could, only to suffer the same fate. Their prey was nowhere near the western gate.

Coatlmon grinned, with luck it would only be by morning – after a long night of chasing and hunting in the wrong part of Burner – when the ruse was uncovered for what it was. This was the best kind of joke; rarely could he play with such a large audience. And that they were wholly unappreciative only made it better.

* * *

Sethos periodically looked back over his shoulder, for any sign of Coatlmon, or V-mon. He had fallen to the rear, where at first he had been at the forefront. The rearguard of the Chosen, with Alraumon and Skelemon as protectors should things go awry. With their track record not an unlikely thing. The plant and skeleton, one smelled, and the other – with his clanking bones – was noisy For any amount of stealth they were ill suited.

Unseen Plotmon and Leormon, the former riding on the latter's back, scouted ahead. Sharp eyes and keen ears, to hold on to the element of surprise. If anyone knew where they were going, if his partner failed, it would be disastrous. And so he kept looking back, lagging, though Sethos knew well enough his partner wasn't going to join up with them any time soon. If at all, and it was that line of thought that worried the boy most of all.

Eboni held back a few steps, and fell in line with him. Her voice came in a whisper, and even that seemed loud. "Coatlmon will be fine."

"You don't know that. There's so much we don't know. This is only the second time V-mon has become Coatlmon, and the first time he's gone out alone. Is there a limit to how far I can support him? What if it fails at the wrong moment?"

"We are here for a purpose, ordained by the Gods of this place, a purpose that goes beyond this city. This entire region has fallen into despair. As such it is not our destiny to fall here this night. Believe in your partner, he'll make it out all right," Hesire said. Neither boy nor girl had been aware of his approach.

"Comforting words, never thought you were capable of them," Eboni blurted out. Hesire didn't dignify them with a response; instead he glided back to the front. Nephthys gave him a smile, and the boy's steps faltered briefly. So she had put him up to it. Eboni almost had to laugh.

"Purpose and Gods, he doesn't know that for sure." Sethos shook his head. "Those stories are just that, stories."

"You're worried about a talking blue lizard, don't be so quick to assume it can't be true," Eboni said.

Sethos shrugged. Despite efforts, even the unexpected, he was still worried. None of their partners was currently at risk. He held another worry close to his heart. A selfish one, though if anyone had to bear it, it might as well be him. Not the girls, not his longstanding friend Ahmose, not even Hesire; the only one among them whom he found hard to understand. He came across as almost detached and esoteric, and his knowledge – while vast – covered far too obscure grounds. Their country's history had never interested Sethos much, only in that it drew tourists to their home, keeping Ahmose employed.

Perhaps Hesire had also considered their bonds, though that bastard probably didn't care. He'd see it as fate, destiny, or some such nonsense. How deeply ran the connection between himself and V-mon; would the death of one affect the death of the other? Better they never found out. "Perhaps you're right."

* * *

Coatlmon was perched atop the corner of a flat rooftop, his body wrapped like a coil. His forked tail waved about softly, shining almost like a true flame. All around him he saw the glows of torches, fanning out as uncertainty struck the patrols. A wider area of search now would make their forward momentum stall. Which was fine, but just not quite yet; to make sure the others and he had enough time to do what was needed the winged serpent needed them a little closer to the western gate.

One more incursion into their midst was all it was going to take. Like a tightly-wound spring he uncurled and sped forward – not as fast as he would've liked. Now Coatlmon was uncertain, his speed had steadily dropped during the last couple of raids. Nothing to be done about that now, a Golemon had caught his eye, and vice versa.

"Toltecan Wind," Coatlmon hissed. Golemon aimed a wicked punch his way. With a beating of his wings Coatlmon stalled his flight, his face a mere breath away from the colossal fist. His tail continued on, like a whip, propelling a gust of wind to the centre of the patrol. Their part of the street was immediately plunged in darkness as the torch was blown out and away from the Gotsumon holding it.

Ducking low Coatlmon used the confusion to fly under the Golemon's retreating arm and then over the head of the torchbearer as he was fumbling to find the stick again. Heat from the Golemon's burning gasses would reignite the wood, but that took time and by then he was off.

An odd draft whizzed past his ears and the next thing he knew he slammed into a wall. His ears were ringing. Someone wasn't as surprised as he had believed; doing the same approach every time – no matter how efficient – had come back at him. Through the ringing he heard strong steps coming his way.

* * *

Apemon stopped and grinned, though no one could see. The white serpent had just learned harassing the guards was a bad idea. Disappointing, he expected better from the one who had so easily dealt with the other patrols, but his success was more because of the failings of the patrolling troops than skill on his part. As such Apemon was unconcerned the white serpent had gotten up and split before his club came down for a second, and final, hit. He had speed, he'd give him that.

"Where is it," the torchbearer said. Apemon idly took a step back and kicked the torch, hitting the bearer straight in the face. Excited voices drowned out the cry, as the other guardsmen had a renewed focus in their pursuit. The Golemon didn't even wait for orders, instead lumbering on in the serpent's wake.

Apemon didn't pursue. Together with the torchbearer he stayed where he was. This was simply one of many such raids, but the first where the raider was actually hurt. Had his club struck better on the first go the outcome would've been completely different. Yet no one came to help – previous experience had shown the group to be tightly knit.

"Which raises the question, why didn't they? Are they even here?" Apemon glanced at the remaining guard. "You, get up and rally those Golemon before they leave town chasing shadows."

"Sir?"

"You heard me, do you want another smack?"

"No sir." Gotsumon saluted awkwardly, his feet already in motion. If he wondered why his commander wasn't following he didn't ask. Sufficiently cowed and relieved to be away from Apemon's presence the torchbearer knew better than that.

Alone at last, Apemon thought. The rules of the game had changed, and for a time he was the only one aware. If he could track and find them he could deal with them in a manner more befitting Leomon's wishes, away from the eyes of the guards unaware of his and Leomon's true allegiances. Discovery was not an option, there were still more of those true guards left than they could afford. Business in Burner would take a serious plummet.

Apemon set off. His club had a taste of the enemy, and wanted more.

* * *

The palace was built in the centre of the bedrock, forming the core of Burner's near perfect circular form. Like the city itself the palace grounds were surrounded by a wall, allowing entry through four gates. As tall, though not as wide, the barrier was mostly ceremonial, yet still defendable. Buildings stopped about fifty meters from the perimeter, allowing no guarded approach should the outer walls ever be breached. No single street ran directly to the palace gates. With flat ceilings, and narrower lanes further in, defenders could stall an army for a long time, leaving no pebble or grain of sand uncontested.

Leormon slinked closer to the gate, invitingly open. Her belly was pressed against the cobblestone pavement as she crawled. No sand or simple rock here, as with everything no expenses were too great for Pharaohmon's seat of power.

She was alone, and barely a few pounces away from standing beneath the ornate overhang of the gatehouse. With her sharp eyes, even more so at night, she discerned the murder holes on the ceiling and the tracks along which the gate doors were moved. Sniffing the air, as she had done every few paces, Leormon continued to edge closer. The air was stale; the smells that lingered were for the most part hours old. Perhaps there was a handful strong enough to have been made in the last hour, nothing more recent than that.

Anxious, and getting ever more agitated the closer she got to passing beyond to the palace gardens, Leormon wondered where the guards were. Their plan appeared to be working; all the guards were invested in patrols – patrols that were nowhere near. Still, it was foolish to leave the heart of the city so unguarded.

Then she realized that, with the passing of Pharaohmon, the palace had ceased being the heart. Leomon ruled now, mounting his legit activities from this place. Yet he was more a criminal than he was a magistrate. The latter was only used to support the former, and losing his hold over the palace was as nothing compared to being unmasked for what he truly was.

Satisfied no one was on guard and confident that she had remained unseen, even from the higher vantage points of the palace minarets, Leormon turned away to report on what she had found.

* * *

Wizarmon sat, cross-legged, on the highest vantage point in Burner. Or rather, he hovered slightly above it, his concentration divided between maintaining his levitation and his observation of the cityscape below. The spires and connecting arcs made for a monument of grace, and outward fragility, belying its second face, more evident below and from within. Not just a palace, but a citadel.

From high above the flickering lights and the trail they made were easily followed, and easily discerned as a feint. On the ground, in the heat of things, it was different. How long until someone realized what was happening? Incompetence was not unheard of in the city guard, few reached high enough positions, and few had the skill needed for command. And the force was too small to allow anyone unqualified in a command position. To blame it all on them was a bit unfair, none of them had the inside knowledge he had.

"So far so good. Oh, old friends, how predictable you are." Wizarmon sighed. Their coming had confirmed their tale, as he knew they would. Corruption truly ran deep in Burner. Good thing he left, good thing he had returned. He spoke aloud and unabashedly, alone on his loft. "I commend you for getting this far, and for making such a transparent ploy actually work. Of course, without me, this place would be swarming with guards right now. How will you proceed? Will your righteousness prevail, or will it fall? Hm?"

An odd light had appeared in the sky, to the south east, leaning mostly to south. Not the light of dawn or the night sky. Faint at first it became stronger at time's passing. No, not stronger but closer, a ribbon of fire.

"Better hurry, friends."

* * *

Leormon sighed, seeing more clearly what the others could not. Ambient light from high window sills bathed the area close by in a golden sheen, fading fast to blue and black. Most of the courtyard was unlit, though there were lantern posts, they were unlit. "The Garden of Substrate, plants from around the region, from oasis and deltas, they all grow here. It's supposed to be so beautiful it is said to calm even the restless spirits of our lord Pharaohmon."

"Few digimon have the privilege to walk these grounds, over the paths, beneath tall trees and past the fountains," Plotmon added.

In its heyday the garden was a tight circle of assorted colours, filled with the tranquil sounds of tinkling water from the many fountains. From simple birdbaths to massive statues, all a display sparkling in the light, even at night, when the garden became a fey glade; that was the talk, but to Leormon's keen eyes it was on death's bed.

"I hate to break it to you." His voice was hardly apologetic, rubbing the leaf of a large fern – a purple one at that – between his fingers. The texture was rough, the leaf so brittle it turned to flakes in Sethos' hand. "But these plants are dying. If it was light out, I don't think I'd call them beautiful."

Skelamon nodded. "Water has been in short supply lately, and with all the recent troubles the gardeners have been unable to do their duties. Without a regular foray to the river these plants, these fountains, have been left to dry. No wonder, maintenance of this place is a luxury no digimon can afford."

"I've heard the gardeners were sent off by Leomon, and have even come under suspicion of killing Pharaohmon," Leormon said. "Word is they've either left town or gone into hiding. Kind of like us."

"I don't know about that, if they were serious about them being the culprits they would've been caught by now. It's just a rumour, especially now that we've been made public enemy number one," Ahmose said, his voice dropping into a murmur. "No one is hunted like we are."

"We'll make it," Nephthys whispered.

"Yeah, we'll turn everything around, you'll see." Eboni grinned. "Even this garden. It's not much now, but when we are through it will be more beautiful than ever, for everyone to see." She took a hold of Nephthys' hand, putting the other on Ahmose's shoulder. "Tonight we'll definitely save Burner."

Sethos shrugged, but he was smiling nonetheless. Even Hesire gave a brief, if solemn, tug of his lips. Not enough for Eboni. "What's wrong with you people?"

"Be quiet everyone, I hear someone coming," Leormon suddenly whispered urgently. Getting into a squat, the young cat was ready to pounce. Eyes wide she was focused on the gate they had past through. The others edged into ferns, gaining and losing cover as the leaves fell apart on touch. Leormon felt her heart beat wildly in her chest.

A figure emerged out of the gloom, small and with a noticeable stammer in his gait. Leormon blinked in recognition. She began to speak, but before that someone else already abandoned the weak cover. "It's V-mon."

"Hey guys," V-mon said, nearly falling into Sethos' welcoming arms.

"You reckless fool," the boy said, "weren't you supposed to avoid fighting at all costs?"

"Couldn't be helped, some big lummox sucker punched me. I'm fine though."

"More importantly, have you achieved the objective?" All eyes were on Hesire, and not all were friendly looking.

"Perhaps we should allow him a moment of rest first?" Ahmose suggested.

Sethos glared. "No, he's right. We have no time. V-mon?"

V-mon was still catching his breath. "It's done, the fools will be running around for hours, for sure. Let's do what we came here for."

* * *

Gotsumon frowned. From his vantage point he saw the amber glow of torches fanning out. Believing at first to be a trick of the light or a result of his loss of depth perception, the leader of the guards realized the expected escape had occurred. And yet, something was off. "What is going on over there?"

Another Gotsumon appeared on the battlements, and stopped to look around. Eyes, two of them, fell on his position. Gotsumon waited for his kin to approach and speak. He recognized her of course, as he did all of the digimon under his command. As his predecessor had done, he too believed he should know all of them. Even though it hurt more losing subordinates, he felt he owed it to the ones who put their lives on the line for the sake of the city.

"Sir," she said, saluting quickly. She had come from far; too far if the target of the escapees was this gate. South then, with the breakpoint somewhere between the two gates.

"Report, if you please."

"Yes sir, our line has been breached, between groups twenty and twenty-one." Gotsumon nodded, that was approximately what he had deduced. "We've been pursuing due west, last I've heard, sir."

That peaked his interest. "West, not south? Are you certain?"

"Yes sir, when the line was breached the patrols along it, in a line due south-west, were attacked. They then began their pursuit, going towards the western gate. Since then they've incurred several raids."

"All of it on route to the west? That makes no sense."

"But isn't that gate one of the least protected?" she said, taking his question as directed at her.

"It is, aside from the north gate it is also the farthest. The longer they are in the city the higher the chance for discovery. Aside from that, they are pursued, so the gate will have to be taken quickly before they are overrun. A hard thing even with the gates' minimal defences. Are they stupid, or am I missing something?"

"Sir, shouldn't we join our comrades instead of waiting around?"

Gotsumon looked her in the eyes. "Moving too hastily invites mistakes. And even if we go now we'll just be another few in a larger mess. Our presence will not help the overall efforts much. Better to think things through, especially if your gut tells you something is wrong. Always trust your gut."

"Yes sir."

"Wait, you said patrols along the cordon were attacked? When they were already through them?"

She nodded.

"We've been had. Why invite more patrols to pursue you if you're trying to escape? They intended to be followed, if it were them at all. How many enemies were spotted? Lion, ghost, hound?" Despite himself he snarled. "Serpent?"

"Only the serpent, sir."

"He's the fastest. He'll lead our patrols away and double-back behind them. While they search in vain the fugitives have free reign in the rest of the city." He shook his head. Not stupid, those fugitives, not at all. If only he had a better view of the city, such as the palace towers, he would've seen this sooner. But over there he was too far from the action, and the magistrate had ordered him to supervise on site. No overview, just another soldier dependent on messengers.

"These are my orders for you. Tell the patrols the enemy is not going west, what they followed was a distraction. I'd send more with you, but I can't spare anyone from this gate. You must hurry, and recall them all."

"Yes sir," she saluted, turning on her heels. Gotsumon could only hope she reached the patrols in time but he doubted it. Even more, he doubted they were trying to escape at all. They had several opportunities to do so, yet hadn't.

"Wait, belay those orders," Gotsumon called out before his messenger reached the way down. Follow his gut was what he said. "We were mistaken, they aren't escaping. The palace is undefended right now, they are after the magistrate."

Her eyes widened, and she was immobilized by shock at the implications. "Sir!" Saluting again she ran, her orders understood. Gotsumon followed. Holding the command post was moot, he was going to rally the guards here and take them straight to the palace. If they got there in time all they had to do was hold out until the full force arrived. They were going to be there in time, the magistrate was too strong to fall. Gotsumon had to believe that. Not another one, not on his watch. Pharaohmon, Leomon, not again.

* * *

The floor was off the deepest black, so smooth and polished as to be the surface of a calm yet infinitely deep lake. None of the outward decay was reflected here, in the bowels of the palace where citadel was transformed into royal trappings. Here the walls were home to heroic carvings, visions of the deep past showing the birth of the land and the city. Pharaohmon prominent in all of the scenes and placed between them the tale was told in digicode, an archaic dialect according to Skelamon.

Not for the first time Hesire wished he could read what the walls told, and had the time to observe them better. This was what he lived for, and he had to let it go. For now, when things calmed down he fully planned to return. He wanted to know and if possible verify the account, aside from Pharaohmon others had to have survived to this day.

"History is written by the victors," he whispered. Would the tale of the Chosen be told some day in this manner, and what would it say; heroes or villains, or not even that, just a footnote in history?

"This is it," Skelamon announced. The end of the hallway had come; a closed set of doors many times their sizes. The lord had been an imposing figure, in size as well as reputation. He never needed to bend down to enter his inner sanctuary. "Is everyone ready?"

"You can still stay here," Eboni said to Nephthys. The other girl shook her head; she was going through with this.

"All right," Sethos said. His digivice clenched in his fist. "Let's evolve and barge in. We'll end it before he knows we're here."

"If he's even inside," V-mon voiced, his words unheeded. Everything depended on Leomon being inside. Word was he was definitely there, but word on the street was proclaiming them as evil as well.

Ahmose took charge. "Dobermon and Raiamon take point, Alraumon stays with us behind them and Bakemon and Coatlmon above us when we enter. After that we have to move quickly to subdue Leomon, while we still have the element of surprise."

"Try to evolve Alraumon if you can," Eboni said. Again she put a hand on the other girl's shoulder, giving it a soft squeeze. For support and reassurance, the memories of her crying after her ordeal were still strong in Eboni's mind.

Nephthys pulled away. Though she meant well Nephthys couldn't take this right now; her knees felt weak enough as it was. Sympathy and concern weren't helping in this case, only bringing her back to those horrible moments. She looked at her digivice; so far she had gotten no reaction from the device. Not like the others. Perhaps her fear was holding the power at bay. She didn't know what to do, but she wasn't going to be a dead weight. Nephthys refused to be.

"If you can't we've got things covered with the four of us," Leormon added.

"No harm will come to any of you," Plotmon said.

Sethos stepped forward, holding his digivice up to the door. "Enough talk. It's a lot to ask of you partner, to do this twice in one night, three times in a single day, but let's do this. All those rations you ate, the storeroom plundered here. You have to do it again. Evolve!"

Three more digivices were raised, light pouring out of all four of them. The fifth stayed inert, much to the disappointment of Nephthys and the chagrin of Alraumon. In this critical time the plant girl wanted so much to be of help. Nothing was forthcoming.

* * *

Black fire, crackling lightning, and wind as cold as ice together with a ghastly claw; pure power that blew the double doors away. The impact resounding both down the hallway and into the throne room within, the two metallic sheets skidded on yet left no mark on the obsidian floor.

Dobermon and Raiamon leapt through the opening, stopping just short of where the doors had been deposited. Flowing gracefully through the air Coatlmon followed, joined by a less precise ghostly hovering. For the Chosen and their digimon both this was their first time within the chamber that had housed the powerful. Here the walls and ceilings were as black as the floor. Pillars of the same stone, only rounded, were only discernable by the glowing digicode markings upon them. Past the destroyed doors, to the centre of the chamber, the floor dipped into a bowl and within that bowl was a mirror. More than just water, it radiated power.

"I see you didn't run. A pity as you were so very good at it. An entire guard force out looking for you, hunting you for days and what do you do. You come right to me. And you brought my girl back to me as well."

Beyond the pool, on a raised dais sitting on a throne too large for him, the magistrate of Burner was unimpressed. Outnumbered, nevertheless he was not outmatched and his confidence showed. Elbow on armrest and his head resting on a ham-sized fist Leomon was the epitome of a ruler. The glow of the markings made the shadows dance across his body, highlighting his scars, his gleaming teeth and creating a malevolent light within his eyes. Not large enough for the throne, yet his presence was not diminished. Even the most stalwart of foes would be taken aback. At his words Nephthys visibly flinched, and Leomon's lips quirked in a lopsided grin.

"We've come to make you pay for your crimes." First to regain his voice Ahmose was unable to hide a tremor as he spoke.

Leomon laughed, a booming sound coming from everywhere in the chamber at once. "You have caused me no end of trouble. How's that for crime. You all coming here with demands for the benefit of the citizenry, believing you are so good, so righteous. The same digimon who are, even now, in their beds asleep, hoping for your capture, your deaths. You do them no favours, believe me. Nothing is going to change. The weak stay weak, existing for the stronger to exploit.

But I will tell you something, since you did turn yourselves in to me. Surrender and I'll take back my girl. I've changed my mind about selling her, she'll come into my service – once the heat dies down. And for you, thieves of my property, I'll grant you quick deaths. Let it not be said I'm incapable of showing mercy."

"I won't go back," Nephthys whispered.

"You should really consider my offer, I won't make it again. My girl, I told you back then to think things through. Do so now, and you'll see that power, true power, can be yours. In the past Pharaohmon used the turmoil to carve an empire. That turmoil has returned. Power, true power, is ripe for the taking."

Eboni gasped. "You're mad."

"We'll never do things your way," Dobermon growled. The plan had already failed, Leomon was impossible to unhinge. Their coming had not fazed him. No matter, the black hound knew what he had to do. Putting the lion off balance was only a first step, force was the deciding factor. Dobermon lunged forward, his sleek legs carrying him quickly to the centre pool. Heavier steps fell in line with his, a second lion, quadruped against biped. Both beasts jumped, soaring over the reflective surface of the water. The draft didn't even cause a ripple. Onward, to the top of the dais, teeth bared.

Leomon still showed no reaction, aside from a slight bemusement. Fangs didn't concern him, not even the reputed dentures of the Raiamon breed. As the two went for his neck he instead grabbed theirs, holding them fast in place, the throne absorbing their momentum. Now he rose to his feet, his muscles bulging. As fast as they had climbed up they were thrown back down, breaking the surface of the pool.

Coatlmon hissed, the coldest wind following in his wake. Leomon backhanded him into a pillar, and looked around for the fourth attacker. He saw nothing, but he hadn't gotten where he was by ignoring his instinct. He whirled around, even before Bakemon had finished appearing behind him. In one swift movement his sword left his scabbard, cutting into the ghost's cloth. Fortunately for Bakemon only a low piece was severed. Completing the turn Leomon kicked the ghost in the face, sending him off before landing smoothly himself.

"Heroes," he addressed the Chosen. Every word taking him further down the dais, while below him the two heads rose gasping from the water. "Somehow I hoped for better. Girl, my offer still stands, but this is your last chance. No? Pity."

* * *

"No," Dobermon gurgled, spitting the water from his mouth. His fur sticking sleekly to his body, when in the chokehold his throat had nearly collapsed, now after the bath he felt nothing. The water did hold power. Sword at the ready Leomon was running at their unprotected partners. They screamed and started to scatter, but they were going to be cut to pieces, all of them, unless he did something. But his throat, the water, it held power, it kept his throat too wet. Roaring in desperation he finally managed to worm free his power. Black fire spit forth out of his maw.

Leomon didn't slow, he jumped and twisted around. From his free fist a ball of fire, like the head of a lion, intercepted the black jet of flame. Cancelling each other out.

"You'll have to do better than that," Leomon taunted. Turning he saw none of the Chosen where they were. They had taken refuge behind the pillars, a temporary refuge, but Dobermon was glad for even that much.

"Climb," Raiamon growled, trying to get a hold of dry ground. The obsidian resisted her claws, and she kept sliding back into the water. "Try harder!"

Something shimmered above them, and two purple claws descended on their backs. Their touch was cold, made of weakness. But their debilitating touch was contained. Bakemon sniffled, his speech slightly impaired. Something had broken underneath the cloth. "Let me help you out of there."

* * *

Eboni sat on the cold floor, her back pressed against a pillar. The glowing marks at the base a contrasting source of warmth. She now began to understand what Nephthys must have gone through. And to then come back, knowing; she was a brave girl. She kept telling herself to move, her hiding place was too close to the rampaging lion. But if she did, he would see her.

A head appeared from behind another column. Sethos tried to get her attention, waving for her to come. Eboni shook her head, almost having to laugh at the look of consternation coming her way. She had to wonder if this was what panic was like. But then his expression changed.

"Eboni!" he cried and she understood. She scampered away, on hands and feet. Slipping, getting up again, dignity thrown to the wind, not daring to look over her shoulder. If she had she would've seen Leomon.   
"That's the right place for you, grovelling on the ground," he said, and swung down his sword. Ice and wind pummelled it. Eboni screamed when it hit right next to her, sparks flying from the blade and the obsidian.

A hand took her wrist, pulling Eboni up right and taking her along. She and Ahmose ran, not stopping for cover.

* * *

Coatlmon circled around the magistrate, his gleaming tail trying to score a hit while avoiding one himself. Leomon swung his blade across the serpent's path, altering it in his advantage. Free hand closed on white scales and, not stopping Coatlmon's momentum, started to swing him around faster and faster. First overhead in a vertical circle before bringing his arm in an angle, ending with a vertical spiral; when he let go Coatlmon raced uncontrollably into the air. With an almost indifferent air Leomon made it seem so easy.

Thunder crackled, the harbinger of Raiamon's approach – ornaments clinking in the lioness' mane. Reversing his grip on his sword Leomon struck the obsidian tiles with its tip. Grounding himself he diverted most of the voltage away from his body. His fur was singing in places, but it hardly mattered. Black fire followed in the wake of the lighting, answered in turn by Leomon's own flame.

"What did you think coming here? That I was like my subordinates? Girl, you should've known better, so should you ghost boy." Leomon scoffed. He retreated, each step resolute and nothing if not calculated. Dobermon snapped at him, following up with the nails on his front paws. Unexpectedly the hound scored a few hits as Leomon suddenly stepped in. unbalanced, on his hind legs, Dobermon was unprepared for the punch aimed at his exposed stomach. He yelped and started to fall back.

Raiamon came in with her crack bite, but Leomon kicked Dobermon against his flank and into hers. The two went down. Ignoring Dobermon, while sheathing his blade, the magistrate grabbed the lioness by her shoulders. Heaving and grappling he lifted her over his head, swinging once before throwing her into a pillar. The column shook, but didn't collapse. Reaching back the magistrate unsheathed his sword once again, reversing it to point down. Dobermon groaned, wanting to get up but held down by Leomon's foot on his abdomen.

"Do you see how outmatched you are? Feel the despair, now the killing begins. None of you shall be spared to see the morrow."

"No!" Bakemon screamed. Ghoulish hands wrapped around Leomon's clenched fist. Poison seeped through, and for a second Leomon flinched. His hand shook, grip weakening. Beneath him Dobermon heaved with all his might and rose to his feet. Leomon fell back, but collected himself in time so he didn't crash himself. Through it all he momentarily stopped fighting against the poison. His nerves felt deadened and made it impossible to hold on to the sword in his hand. He punched at Bakemon, missing as the ghost hovered back and vanished. Kicking out the magistrate created some distance between himself and the hound.

"This avails you nothing," Leomon hissed. Already feeling started to return to his appendage.

Hesire stepped from behind a pillar, a look of resolution on his face. When he spoke the other Chosen followed his example. "Wrong. We knew coming here what we were facing."

Nephthys came to stand at his side. "It's you who has been underestimating us."

"It's true you're stronger than any one of us," Ahmose said, still holding Eboni's hand.

"But you aren't fighting any one of us; you are fighting all of us. Together." Sethos leaned back against a pillar, crossing his arms.

Eboni shook her head sadly. "It was my hope this could be resolved peacefully, but if force is all you understand, than force will answer you."

Forcing herself forward Alraumon shot out her vines, tightening around Leomon's throat. Like a missile Coatlmon dropped from the ceiling, constricting Leomon's shoulders. His scales exhumed cold. Twin roars, Dobermon and Raiamon both plunged their teeth in his lower arms. The hound didn't dig in deep, but the same could not be said for the lioness. Her teeth sank down, going through muscle and tendons, to the bone. She had his sword arm.

"What?" Leomon exclaimed, held immobile.

The fifth digimon reappeared, taking the magistrate's sword in his own ghoulish hands. Bakemon lunged forward, aiming for the centre of Leomon's chest where the ribs came together. Roaring, in anger, pain, outrage, Leomon moved all holding him. Then the sword dug into his side, away from the intended target but by no means less wounding.

Leomon hadn't gotten where he was by giving in. Defying the odds he brought his arms together in front of him, slamming Raiamon and Dobermon against each other to free them.

Bakemon stared deep in the lion's eyes, seeing nothing but murder there. He tried to get away but claws took his cloth. The ghost was thrown away, and in the same motion Coatlmon was launched in the opposite direction and up. A pillar blocked his path, hard enough to dispel his form. V-mon dropped like a brick.

Alraumon's vines were retracting but Leomon was faster still. Like Coatlmon earlier she was spun around and thrown. She screamed and struck something. Nephthys grunted, holding her partner as they both fell.

"What kind of monster is this?" Sethos asked.

Leomon glared at them, taking stock of the situation. One of the stronger pests was down, but three still remained, and in fighting shape. Though his blood was pumping he was losing mobility in his sword arm. And the wound in his side was nothing to laugh at either. Grunting he freed the sword from his body. In his other hand it would be less effective, and with only one working arm he couldn't use all of his attacks at once. Incredible, but he had lost. Before the Chosen digimon could react he sheathed the blade, and formed fire in his hand. They tensed up, waiting to see who he was going after.

Leomon surprised them by slamming the fire into the ground, making a temporary wall between him and them. Then he turned and ran, his hand closing on the abdominal wound. Out of the chamber and into the hallway, he continued on. Though they had gotten him they were still in the city, his city. There was going to be another chance.

* * *

"Quickly, after him!" Sethos said. The boy started to run, heedless of anyone following. He was so sure they would. It was why they had come. That could not be allowed. A blue glow enveloped his staff as a soft incantation past through his bound lips.

A ball, glowing in the same hue as the digicode markings so prevalent in the chamber, shot from the tip of the staff. It struck the pool, and the water exploded. What landed back into the basin was black, the shimmering light scattered.

Drops, then rivulets, seeped back into the basin from all sides. For now the scrying power was disrupted, until all the water was returned. All the time he needed. What happened this night was not for anyone's eyes but theirs, this was all a private affair.

The chances of anyone watching were slim, but it paid to be careful at this junction. The priest hovered down, into the guarded midst of the Chosen, who were unsure whether he was friend or foe, as it should be. "Hold."

"Wizarmon," Alraumon said. "Why are you here?"

His boots touched down, and he looked everyone in the eyes before answering. Taking their measure, and reading there what he expected. "I'm not here to fight you; else I'd been here at Leomon's side. I've come with a warning. Don't pursue the magistrate; you've got bigger things to worry about. If you don't leave the palace – no, make that the city – now, you never will."

"Are you threatening us?" Sethos demanded.

"Hard of hearing, boy?" Wizarmon dismissed him with the wave of a hand. "You are hereby warned, Garudamon is coming."

"Who is that?" Ahmose asked. Of course they would not know, but the reaction from their partners was all the more telling. They knew, and so they would leave. Just one more loose end before the Phoenix Guard arrived. Hidden under his cowl Wizarmon smiled.

* * *

Leomon slammed his fist against the wall. Dust and gravel came loose from the old stone. Faint yellow sandstone, not every part of the palace was as richly adorned as the throne room. This high tower, and its large arched portal to the night sky, was one such place. Badly kept, the personal entrance of the lord's old friend was hardly used. Duty kept both apart, when they were both still living. The one left had no reason to return.

A ragged tapestry hung in front of the portal, to keep the sands out in the event of a sandstorm. Most of it was now in tatters, parts of it were in his hand. Bandaging his wounds with only one hand was proving a difficult chore. And more than once frustration ruined his efforts.

"Things did not go well, lord magistrate?"

The magistrate looked up, and snarled at the diminutive priest. "And where have you been?"

"Around," Wizarmon said. Shrugging the priest stepped closer. "I was witness to what happened. Seems like you underestimated them."

"If you saw, why didn't you step in? No, don't answer, lest I take you down for your cowardice."

Wizarmon cocked his head. "It wasn't cowardice that stayed my hand, lord magistrate. Have you forgotten my purpose? I find the dark elements of our lands. Apprehending them is the task of the local enforcers. Only in dire circumstances do I interfere."

"And this wasn't dire? Forget it; just get your useless carcass out of my sight."

Wizarmon shrugged again. "If that is your wish. But before that, allow me to tend to your wounds."

"Do as you-" Leomon's breath stalled in his throat. Before his eyes the world twisted and turned. A sickening vertigo and terror, stealing the strength from his limbs, Leomon was paralyzed. The priest's hand was on his abdominal wound, like a lead weight.

"Terror Illusion. In my grip you are made useless."

Fingers digging through flesh, all Leomon could do was grunt. His sight was failing and though he spoke close the priest appeared to be miles away. His being was centred on those digging fingers. "What?"

"Foolish magistrate, blinded so easily by your assumed power, did you really think you were not susceptible to the very turmoil you sought to exploit?"

"Damned priest. What can you possibly hope to gain from my death?" Leomon said, almost passing out in the process.

"Don't try to speak, just listen if you can. What do I seek to gain by taking you down? Nothing, except to remove a blight from this world. The Chosen were supposed to take care of you, but you who accuse me of cowardice fled from their righteous fury. You are nothing but a bit player in the greater scheme."

"Such arrogance."

Wizarmon laughed. "That is something that should be familiar to you. Your problem is that you never thought far enough ahead. Your petty power struggle, your dominance over this cowed populace, it means nothing. Surpassing the High Priest has always been beyond your reach."

"But not yours?"

"Who's to say I'm not loyal to my liege? Farewell magistrate." There was a grim smile on Wizarmon's face. Leomon roared, or thought he did, as a searing heat destroyed him from the inside out.

* * *

The curtain swilled in the wind – no wind blew over Burner that night, no natural wind. Ripping off the sills the rags fluttered inside, where they were forgotten. There was a new light in the sky above Burner, a multitude of flames. A tall muscular warrior glided inside on powerful wings, talons clicking on the floor. Behind him two more birds followed. Wizarmon averted his gaze, taking a sudden fascination with the rubble as he knelt.

"Lord Garudamon," Wizarmon said.

Garudamon took one look at him, taking his measure. "One of the High Priest's many followers. What are you doing here, and where is the damned magistrate? Our approach could be seen for miles. Is this what security has come to in this place? It's pathetic."

Wizarmon rose to his feet, yet took care to show proper deference to the irate warrior bird. He was of a completely different league than Leomon – someone who must be shown proper respect. He had earned it many times over, enough to win the full loyalty of his squadrons.

"I'm sorry to say that things went awry here, sir. The magistrate is dead."

"How did this happen, priest?"

"You've come here because of the rumours, haven't you, for the ones who came here, who assassinated Pharaohmon, the Chosen?"

Garudamon stepped closer, staring down at him. "The one who asks the questions is me. You're saying they killed Leomon?"

"The guards are out in force, hunting them down. For days now, yet they were unsuccessful. Their grip on this city is strong; tonight they came for the magistrate, and took him out."

"You're saying they've taken root?"

"Only way they remained hidden. Perhaps they're even within the guard force. No one was there to assist him."

"Where were you in all of this?" Garudamon asked.

"My search was proving fruitless. So I returned, too late to help, yet in time to see what happened."

"How timely." There was nothing in his words to show he believed what he was told. But then, Wizarmon knew, that was his way. It paid to invest time in understanding your superiors. "You shall return to the High Priest, and relate this tale of yours. One of mine will take you, at least part of the way." Garudamon turned back to the opening.

"You believe they'll prevent me from leaving the city sir?"

Garudamon looked back. "Your words only confirm what we, in the worst case, expected to discover. We've come prepared, this city will be purged."

* * *

Toucanmon stumbled out of her humble house, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. Something had woken her. In a place that was as silent as a desert grave at night that was remarkable in its own right. More surprising, instead of hiding deeper in her shell, she ventured out. Perhaps it was the light that beckoned her.

Flames like dancing fireflies filled the air above her, as if the stars had come down. Some stayed in place, while others moved – mostly in a v-formation. A lone flame came down into her street, growing bigger in its approach.

"Oh, be praised," she said, dropping to her knees. This was the rekindling of hope, safety had returned to the city. The Birdramon was almost upon her. He would see, and save her. The Phoenix guard would save them all. Such a shining bird, a magnificent sight for her old eyes, its presence lighting the whole of the street behind her.

Toucanmon was astonished, the street was aflame. This wasn't right; her house was going to be destroyed. Fire now fronted the bird, a scorching heat unlike anything Toucanmon had ever experienced. When he crossed her position, she was no longer there, no longer anywhere, for the Phoenix Guard had arrived.

* * *

All over Burner houses were set aflame, citizens burned and destroyed. No one was safe, all were circumspect. Panicked screams, until only the roar of fire remained, erupted into the night sky.

Gotsumon helped a blackened, but still alive, figure to her feet. Recognizing in her his messenger, sent out not long ago, he pulled her inside a burning building. As they went this one still had a bit of life in its walls, enough to stave off collapsing until the Birdramon and Saberdramon past over to rain death on other parts of the city. Would that they were all Birdramon, at night the dark feathered avian guard were a lot harder to spot. Getting back to the palace was now forgotten. The magistrate was on his own, if he was still alive. Gotsumon's priority remained with the digimon, those under his command and those under his protection. At least all he could find on their way out of Burner.

"You'll be fine," he whispered to the messenger, propping her against a wall. She'd live, if they made it out. He turned to a crouching Golemon, one he had taken from the western gate. "You, take care of her."

Those he had found had orders to go west, rounding up as many survivors on route as they could while staying hidden. The Phoenix Guard was killing indiscriminately. This was a purge, aimed at the fugitives he had failed to apprehend. This was his fault, all of it.

Enough recriminations, he'd have plenty of time for that after he brought the digimon to safety. "You've got her? Then let's go."

* * *

The Birdramon set in a nose dive, skirting low over the sand. Fire trailed him, flowing from wings in torrents. Though the street was empty, the purge had to be complete. Perhaps she was even glad for the vacancies. She understood their purpose, and for her leader she'd do anything, but even still these were their citizens they were attacking.

Another digimon, a primate, appeared on the street and she could imagine how forlorn he must be, staring up into death itself. No reason to make things harder. Four meteors struck the place where he had stood.

A dark shape shot over the conflagration, it was the Apemon. His bone club struck her skull and before she knew it she was biting dust, hurting all over. The smell of burning soil filled her nostrils. It took her some time to realize she had crashed, and the burning was of her own meteors. The club struck her again, shattering her skull, and she knew no more.

Apemon sneered. "We aren't all fools waiting for the slaughter." Another bird had come, this one jet black. Apemon spoke for his benefit. "Come on, I'll take you all on. Stop me from leaving this dump."

The bird answered his challenge, and Apemon raced to meet it.

* * *

Wizarmon spared Burner no second look as it burned beneath him. What had started at the palace had spread out over its entirety. Loud crashes, shaking the very bedrock he imagined, signified the collapsing spires. Garudamon was taking a personal interest in purging the central structure, though he'd fail in levelling it all. The main citadel was made to last, even if the decorative additions, such as the towers, were eradicated. Still, it would be an ash-filled domicile in a circle of dead, smouldering rock.

The Saberdramon charged with taking him away from the city felt agitated. No doubt for missing out of his fellows. Such an astonishing loyalty amongst the bird under Garudamon's command, something the city guard – former city guard for a former city – could've learned from.

"You can set me off on the route to Query, so you can join your squad members. This is an important night for you all."

"You're very considerate," Saberdramon said. Their descent answered his offer, landing on a sandy dune away from the city, nothing more than a glow against the horizon now.

"Tell your boss I'll be returning to the High Priest through Query. I'm sure he'd like to know." Trust was hard earned, and it was obvious Garudamon trusted few outside his corps. As a lowly priest he was not one of them.

The night was halfway gone, and many a sand dune stood between him and the town of Query. No way would he reach it before dawn, on foot. A fruitful day and he needed rest. The bird could take him there, but he wanted time to array his thoughts. Fortunately he had gone this way on route to Burner, and had prepared campsites for his return journey. One of those was close by, a day's travel on foot from Burner yet decidedly less so by air. He'd set out from there.


	7. Withered Leaves

**Duat Diaries**

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**Disclaimer: Digimon does not belong to me. This fic is set in Lord Archive's Diaries Universe and is written with permission.**

**Chapter Seven **

_**Withered Leaves**_

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The city of Burner burned brightly through the night, a beacon of acrid light that could be seen for leagues. Nothing within its massive walls was spared, unless it could hide, not just well, but better than fire could reach and birds' eyes could see. Few escaped that were not seen on the nightly sands, illuminated by the flames.

Scaling a rise, her feet sinking slightly in the loose sand, Nephthys found it remarkable that their group had made it out. Looking back she stifled a yawn; she crossed her arms briefly to ward off the chill. If she wasn't careful she'd slid right back down again.

Already there was a change in the air; it was just a tad less cold than moments before. A brighter line was emerging on the horizon, a new light to accompany the demise of the city. Though it had offered no sanctuary to her, or her friends, it had not deserved such a fate.

Up ahead, already having crested the rise, Eboni gave a small cry. Reaching the top of the dune herself Nephthys saw the other girl several metres below. A slight breeze came from behind, carrying with it the smell of burning. Sand, like a vapour, twirled down the slope. Ahmose and Sethos went down after Eboni, half walking and half-sliding.

Walking, all through the night, after all they'd already gone through at the palace. And before, the flight from the one small place they called home. It was too much, just too much exhaustion. Fear and adrenaline was all that kept them going. Eboni slipped. How much more would they slip before a fatal mistake was made? She sighed.

"Only time never gets tired of running, we are not so fortunate. How are you holding up?"

Nephthys almost jumped. She had forgotten Hesire was there on the rise with her. "I'm fine, just tired."

"We need rest," Hesire said. They stood alone on the dune. "But we're too close to the city. They'll find us if we do."

Being found was one of her worries, but it wasn't the foremost on her list, as it seemed it was to Hesire and the others. Every dune meant one more dune between them and being found out. They were all looking back, and that was a mistake. Nephthys looked ahead, but every dune revealed another. Every rocky outcropping revealed more of the same. There was no shelter, and when the dawn came they'd be cooked. The desert was a foe greater than what lay behind them, and it was waking up.

* * *

Eboni swore. She was always taught not to, to be a good girl. Lying on her back in the sand, the burns on her arms irritated by the grit, it was impossible to care about that. Her family could never have imagined this – it was absurd and it was real.

Ahmose and Sethos came to a stop at either of her sides. "Are you hurt?" The older boy asked.

"No."

"Sure, bite his head off," Sethos remarked.

She snapped. Eboni had come close to it before, but always she pushed back on fully exploding. This time, she just couldn't take it. "Can it!"

"Take it easy you two, we're in this together," Ahmose said.

"It itches, it itches so much," Eboni said. She looked at both her arms, and even in the low light of the fading night they were so red to her eyes. So much fire, so much heat, she had to consider herself lucky to only suffer this much. Her skin would heal, that much she had to believe.

"You can't scratch it." Ahmose took her left hand in his, and slowly, gingerly, wiped some of the sand away. Not just for her, but for himself as well. Part of his pants were ripped up, the pieces of cloth wrapped around his hands.

"I know. I'm sorry." Extracting herself she stood up, wobbly as the sands shifted. Eboni could take her own wounds, but his were because of her. Back there, she had been foolish, and he was paying the worst of it.

"Please stop saying that. You did what you thought was right, we both did."

"For all the good it did," Sethos said. "You both got hurt and that panicked little digimon you freed from burning fled right into another death trap."

Sethos was too callous. For a moment Eboni looked at him like he was as strange as the people and the world they were in. But then she really didn't know where he came from and, he did have a point. Not that she would acknowledge that. "And what was I supposed to do, leave the poor thing to die? They are not all monsters, they deserve our compassion."

"When they show it to me, I'll show it to them. But right now, we can't risk ourselves for them. Our partners are the only ones on our side," Sethos said.

Why are you like that? Eboni wanted to scream at him. He was just as kid; they were all just kids, it wasn't right for any of them to be like that. Instead she bit it back, they were all just tired, surely that was all there was to it. "We can't keep going like this, we need to rest."

"We need to drink too," Sethos said.

"It's not safe here," Ahmose pinched his eyes shut.

* * *

"And we don't have anything to drink," Hesire remarked, as he and Nephthys joined them at the bottom. "We should keep moving."

Sethos grinned. "We can always drink our own pee if we need to."

"Eww," Eboni exclaimed.

"No, we can't rely on that," Nephthys said, soft-spoken and unexpected. On the quiet run from the city she had been by far the most silent. "Have you ever tried peeing when you're dehydrated? It's not that easy. Not that good for you either, drinking it raw."

"And you know this from personal experience?"

"Sethos!" Eboni said. "That's completely inappropriate."

Nephthys' cheeks got rosier. There was no way she was going to tell anyone that, not even her parents knew. Much to her surprise she actually said, "Yes, I do."

Now she had everyone's attention. Eboni was the first to react. "What?"

"I got lost once, in the desert." Nephthys shuffled her feet. "For days, I had to survive on my own. An old man in the village I lived in, a former soldier, once told me how to safely drink my own pee. He had learned it from some Berbers. I could only do it once; there was just so little water."

"Wow, I'm impressed," Sethos said. The boy was looking at her like he'd never seen her before. Maybe he hadn't, she hadn't told them much about herself. Come to think of it, none of them had really spoken much of who they were just days before.

"You adapt quickly in the desert, or you die," Nephthys said. She had taken the soldier's words to heart. Others had called her survival miraculous, but to her it wasn't that big of a deal. What else could she have done but keep herself alive as best as she could?

"And you adapted. What do you think we should do then?" Hesire asked. She gulped, suddenly not so sure speaking up was wise. They were all looking at her now. "We are at your mercy."

"I'm not drinking my own pee," Eboni shook her head empathically.

"You can have mine," Sethos said with a grin.

Nephthys smiled weakly, confronted with a bit more attention than she liked. "We may not need to, if we just – "

"Guys, guys!" An excited mewling interrupted Nephthys, and she quickly closed her mouth. Leormon didn't sound concerned, as such, but as their forward scout – their only scout, their other partners moving along side so nothing could sneak up – she was bound to have seen something of interest. Nephthys supposed what she had to say could wait. At the very least it spared her from saying anything more embarrassing.

Eboni bent down, petting her partner's back. "What is it Leormon?"

"I found an oasis, not far. And the river, I've seen it, just a couple hours walking from here."

"An oasis, water, shelter, rest," Ahmose said. Putting his fingers to his lips he gave a brief, sharp, whistle, their sign for their partners to come back. "It's exactly what we need."

* * *

The oasis lay in the crook of a large rock, easily as tall as the walls of Overlook, jutting out of the sands at an angle, like a blunted tooth. It was the lushest sight of the Digital World yet – outside the palace garden before it got burned to a cinder – but even so it was a weak, if stubborn, existence.

Hidden in the shade of stone and in its own rocky bed, was a pool of water, a basin surrounded by red ferns and grasses. To the outside were palms, with leaves of dried purple. From the looks of things the oasis had been waning, perhaps for years, until this final bastion around the basin was all that remained.

The dark sky had become light; though the oppressive heat had yet to arrive it wasn't far off. There was a sweetness to the air, faint, enticing, but somehow also rotten, coming from the odd coloured plants.

"Something smells wrong," Alraumon said hesitantly, mirroring Nephthys' thoughts.

"Surprised you can smell anything," V-mon said. Swat, Leormon's paw came down on his head quick. She scowled, and so did he. Then he shrugged and grinned. Leormon took a step toward him. "Wow, I'm sorry. Sheesh, no sense of humour."

"Water, I wonder how it'll taste," Eboni said, smiling at each of them in turn. "You think those plants will be edible?"

Nephthys, aware of her own parched throat as a distraction on their march, became more aware of it now. A small rumbling in her stomach, reminding her the last time she had eaten was before the strike against Leomon – their mission a failure as far as she was concerned. Trying to save the city, just to see it burn in the end.

She wanted that water, just as much as her friends did. They all moved toward it, the salvation the oasis promised was just too much to ignore. The others were moving faster, slipping in sand, but not falling.

Eboni was going as far as moving even ahead of their partners, a sight that left a nasty feeling in Nephthys. Back home oases were likely homes of scorpions and things living in the desert. She also couldn't ignore her partner, even her own nose was slightly upset by the smell underneath the alluring scent.

Impulsively she grabbed Hesire's arm, before he could run off with the others. "Don't run."

"What's wrong?" Hesire asked, immediately wary. She didn't need to answer, as all their friends, passing through leaves, suddenly all collapsed. The group was cut down to just three in moments, just her, Alraumon and Hesire.

Alraumon groaned and Nephthys couldn't blame her. "What do we do now?"

"How did you know?" Hesire asked.

"I'm not sure, something felt off," Nephthys said, and Alraumon nodded her own confirmation. "And, oases are usually not abandoned. They're too valuable to be, for local life."

Hesire nodded. "I've never thought much about that." He admitted. Perhaps he regretted that now, but, seeing him standing in contemplation – almost completely at ease – she doubted it. He didn't appear, in any way, surprised by what happened. She really admired his confidence.

"We need that water, and we need those rushing fools." Had she not stopped him, he'd have rushed in right along with them. "Right, no other choice available. You two, stay here, I'll try getting them out. Watch what happens, if I fall, learn why and do something."

"Wait."

"We're all counting on you," Hesire said, taking a deep breath. He ran, leaves rustling, to the nearest body. It was V-mon and he quickly grabbed the blue lizard under the arms, dragging him away from the others and back to the border of plant and sand.

He looked like he was going to make it, when he stumbled. Hesire dropped V-mon, shouting with a slur, before he fell. "It's pollen."

Nephthys swallowed hard, but her mouth was dry, out of lack of water or fear, she didn't know. With a last look at Hesire – he was close, perhaps she could get to him – she turned and ran.

* * *

When Nephthys thought herself far enough away she dropped to the sand on the other side of a dune, turned, and crawled so she could just look over the top. Already the sand beneath her was getting warm. Later in the day it would be scalding hot, so she wouldn't be able to lie on it like this. Alraumon lay at her side, looking at her imploringly. She gestured for the girl to be quiet.

Together they waited, unable to quite see their friends, but knowing approximately where they were. From the largest clutter of plants, near the water's edge, something moved. The intermittent presence of wind could not explain it. Then she appeared, leaving her haunt furtively. Even from such a distance Nephthys could tell she was pretty. Once she might've even been beautiful, but the way she moved, skulking about, couldn't hide that there was something rotten about her. Just like the faint smell beneath the lure.

Vines snaked out, grabbing the bodies, dragging them to her clump of plants. She looked about but found nothing else. Satisfied she returned to her dwelling with her company.

"Now what are we going to do?" Alraumon asked. Nephthys wished she had an answer.

* * *

There were two wagons, part of a caravan or the whole of it, stashed as much out of sight as possible between the sandy dunes. Nephthys and Alraumon approached it warily, only having discovered it by accident while staking out the land surrounding the oasis, in the hope of finding something, anything, to help them out. It was day by now, and that wasn't good. She was starting to get sweaty, and would be in a lot of trouble when she stopped. Collecting her courage she went for the wagons. Nobody abandoned something so valuable.

"Nephthys, perhaps we shouldn't," Alraumon said.

"Like Hesire said, there's no other choice available to us. We're the last ones left; they are all counting on us this time."

The wagons were well-stocked, but even with that an oasis was hard to resist. Why drain your own coffers when nature provided an alternative for you? The same thing that happened to her friends would have happened to them. Question was, did they have someone like her around, still free?

"Listen, Alraumon, we might not be alone here." Nephthys kneeled at Alraumon's side. There were dunes on either side of the two wagons, a narrow stretch of flat between them. She had become so suspicious of late, looking for possible hiding places and the like. From one of those dunes she could look at both the oasis and the wagons. If there was someone there, he'd no doubt have seen them bumble into the oasis, much like his own compatriots would've done.

"I'm coming up," she called out. "I want to talk to you. Perhaps, perhaps we can help each other."

* * *

Nephthys half expected to find no one, with her hopes of help remaining a flighty fancy. An armoured digimon, mostly red, like a cross between a man and a dragonfly, regarded her solemnly. He wasn't much taller than she was.

"Hi," Nephthys said. "I'm Nephthys, this is Alraumon."

The digimon seemed off put, and then gave a brief laugh and shrug. "Indeed, where are my manners? I'm Flybeemon, fifth trade leader of the Hive."

"The Hive?"

He waved the comment away. "That's unimportant right now."

"I-I suppose you're right."

Flybeemon cocked his head in the direction of the oasis. "Did you see what took them?"

"A woman," Nephthys answered. She hadn't seen more than a glimpse and she didn't know digimon that well, but there was no mistaking she was a woman, and beautifully so.

"A Lilymon," Alraumon supplied.

"Exactly. Now I'm not saying I wouldn't welcome help, but against a Perfection level digimon what can you do?" Flybeemon set off, walking back to his wagons. With a quick look at each other Nephthys and Alraumon followed. "You should leave while you are strong enough; your friends are as good as lost."

Nephthys scowled. "Then, why haven't you left? Because you can't move the wagons?" At her tone Alraumon whimpered, and she was a little surprised at her own temerity. But her friends were back there, soon to be plant food.

Flybeemon turned. "That's not a fair accusation, the wagons are irrelevant, but I'm responsible for my people. Take my advice, or not; in the meantime you are free to my camp and its little shade. Let it not be said we travellers can't be hospitable."

"Have you tried rescuing your friends?" Nephthys asked.

"Yes, like your other friend did. I went in fast, but when I landed to collect their bodies I felt drowsy. I was barely fast enough to get out, and only because that Lilymon didn't follow me out of the oasis was I able to stay free. Odd thing, that, I don't think she can fly anymore. Little good that knowledge has done me up to now. I can fly over it, through it, but not land to make a difference."

Nephthys looked at the digimon imploringly. "We can help each other."

The trader sighed. "I don't even know if my crew is still alive. It's been almost a day now."

"We know it's pollen that incapacitates digimon going in," Nephthys said.

"So do I," Flybeemon answered. "I also know it's thinner along the edges and it doesn't spread very high. But it's there where it counts."

"Yes, but it has a weakness." Nephthys didn't know digimon that well, but she knew her own partner. "Alraumon?"

"I believe the pollen won't affect me," Alraumon said.

"You believe?" Flybeemon sounded sceptic, but interested as well.

Alraumon fidgeted under the scrutiny. "We're from the same plant family, basically."

"How much family?" Flybeemon asked.

Alraumon looked away, then back at the armoured trader. "Distant cousins?"

"Hm..."

* * *

Alraumon squirmed, edging her way closer to the plants. Keeping herself as low to the ground as possible, for as long as possible. The sand was hot, but she hardly felt it, feeling a deep wanting to dig in deep and hide. This plan was horrible, and worse, it was Nephthys' plan.

Because it was Nephthys who wanted her to do it, she kept crawling closer. But what if she did fail, as she had so many times before? How much help had she truly been so far? She had failed so much in Burner, only able to do little things. This is wrong, she thought, I shouldn't be here. Nephthys deserved better.

That thought led nowhere, without her Nephthys would be all alone. Replaced by someone like Leomon, or Woodmon. Stronger than her, but wrong, so very wrong. There wasn't anyone she'd entrust Nephthys with, Alraumon realized. "I'm all there is for her, I have to be strong for her." She whispered, and then clamped her mouth shut.

If she didn't do this right, she wouldn't be able to come back.

* * *

"You think we can count on her to do what's needed?"

Nephthys looked to her right to look him in the eyes.

"She's hardly brave, is she," Flybeemon clarified.

"Braver than she thinks," Nephthys said right away. Her eyes turned determined as she looked back over the dune to the oasis.

"You sound so sure of that."

Nephthys smiled, briefly. She felt as tense as Alraumon was bound to feel, though her partner had it worse. With the pollen she had to go in alone. Almost she went for her digivice, but did not want Flybeemon to see it. The little device had an odd effect on some digimon. "Yes, I am. You don't know what we've been through."

He hesitated a moment before speaking. "No, I don't."

"I think she's close enough," Nephthys said. Flybeemon hesitated again, looking at her oddly. "What?"

"Nothing," he said, taking to the air. He rose quickly, becoming just a small speck in moments. Nephthys only watched him for a moment before turning her attention back on her own partner.

Alraumon was near the edge of the oasis now, waiting for her moment. It came when Flybeemon, as a red blur, flew down to the tight bundling of plants and trees.

He reached it in moments and he was going back up almost immediately, only nearing the ground by a metre or two before changing his trajectory. No wind, but the leaves were blowing furiously. A wail of pain and suffering, of loss, gave Nephthys goose bumps. It wasn't the cry of a predator, though it was of something so completely lost it was very near an animal.

Lilymon emerged from her home, the mass of plants cluttered inside the oasis' borders. She came in a twirl that lacked grace, and more besides. With some admiration Alraumon had spoken about what she knew about Lilymon. As rare as plant-like digimon were in the deserts of Database the fairy that grew from them was rarer still. There were cacti out there, the hardest of plants. But few ever, according to Alraumon, became gentle creatures like Lilymon.

Flybeemon confirmed it, as well as calling them keepers of the scattered oases. Not all of the desert havens had Lilymon, but no Lilymon were found outside of them. This Lilymon had not survived the harshness of the desert, her colouring now devoid of vibrancy. The leaves that were her fairy wings were brown and hanging limp. The normally pinkish blooms were yellowed and withered.

"The poor thing, no wonder you can't fly." Her heart went out for the fairy, as much as her mind thought this a fortunate happenstance.

Lilymon spun several times, casting out brown vines and dirty pink spores. A low cloud of pollen was visible, hanging just above the ground. Brought up from the sand, blown off the leaves, the oasis was saturated by the stuff.

"Leave!" Lilymon shouted.

The vicious vine whipped higher, Flybeemon banked hard. He came down from another angle, stopping and streaking in another direction when Lilymon raised a hand, releasing more pollen. Hovering above the looming rock overlooking the oasis he waited, holding her attention. But she didn't move away from the bushes with the bodies, making it impossible for Alraumon to move in.

Flybeemon realized this all to well, as Nephthys did, for he went into another dive, straight for Lilymon. A long vine untangled from her wrist, lashing out with like a whip. Thunder sparkled around Flybeemon and he cut it – barrelling on.

"Thief!" Lilymon cried, and Nephthys realized she misheard her before.

"Fly Spark," Flybeemon called out. Electricity coursed along his stinger and his claws. He hit Lilymon in the cheek, then another charged claw under the chin, slapping her head up. Lilymon shrieked, but the dragonfly didn't let up. Thorns, vicious and sharp, grew from the fairy's body and she decked him.

Nephthys gasped as he hit the sand, and the cloud of pollen. Despite the whiff of it he rose and backed off. But his flight was wobbly and not as fast as before.

Lilymon pursued on foot, kicking up flowers ahead. She was pumped; if Nephthys had been closer she was sure she'd see it in Lilymon's eyes.

For Alraumon this must've been both a wonderful and a dreadful moment. Her partner started running, disappearing in between the plants. It now depended on Flybeemon's ability to keep Lilymon busy.

* * *

Alraumon reached the hub of the oasis without incident, sprinkled with pollen – but feeling none the lesser for it. Maybe it'd be different if Lilymon sprayed her head-on, she had failed to tell Nephthys about that, but these bits were too old to have any effect.

What use was there in worrying her partner even more? Alraumon wanted to think that as brave, but she had her doubts. If she were brave, she wouldn't be squeaking every time a flash of thunder sounded, or a wail from Lilymon. She couldn't see them, but they were closer than she liked.

Within the hub she found them, the bodies of her friends and Flybeemon's crew. She was surprised at what she saw, and for a few moments she just stood watching; until another spark resounded and she resumed her own task. Leormon was closest, lying on a bed of fallen leaves, placed there with much care.

How odd, odder still why a Lilymon would take travellers captive. As a beautiful flower she wouldn't need such a thing as nourishment. Water and sun would do – even in a place with too much sun and little water.

Dragging Leormon by her hind paws she expected to be caught in a moment's notice, but wasn't. They reached the edge and then Nephthys was there. "Well done, Alraumon. I'll take her from here. Hurry, get someone else."

She didn't want to go back in, but she did, as Nephthys dragged Leormon further out to safety. Again she reached the hub without trouble, noticing a sudden lull in the sounds of fighting. "You won't steal my children!"

* * *

"Alraumon!" Nephthys screamed and instantly regretted it. Vines were wrapped tight around her partner, lifting her up and swinging her around. Lilymon's head however swivelled in her direction and the digimon lying at her feet.

"My baby!" Lilymon screamed. Alraumon was instantly released and seemingly forgotten as Lilymon began to stalk in her direction, her mouth set in anger. With a splash Alraumon landed in the pool, forgotten already by the one who threw her.

Flybeemon crashed into Lilymon after the fairy had taken a few steps in Nephthys' direction. "No, focus on me."

Hissing at him Lilymon grew new thorns. When Flybeemon tried to uppercut her she blocked him, grabbing his arm. Even a wilted digimon of her level was a match for him. His tail came up, Lilymon twisting to avoid being stung in the abdomen. The stinger made a cut up her leg, eliciting a pained hiss. Sparks danced around his one free fist, but she grabbed it just as easily.

Nephthys looked around for anything that could help, but Leormon was still out cold. She couldn't run away without her.

"You're next, thief," Lilymon said. There was murder there in those inhuman eyes, but Nephthys was surprised by how little fear she had of her. This digimon female was no monster, like Leomon, but a victim – to be pitied, but not feared.

Hanging on to her resolve, putting the thought that fear or no this Lilymon was unpredictable and dangerous, she stepped past Leormon. The cat's breathing was stable and hopefully she'd be able to shake the effects of the spores off quickly.

She traced her digivice with a finger. It always felt the same, slightly cool as if unaffected by the day to day heat. Now there was something there, a feeling of warmth she got from being with Alraumon. "You poor thing, you think killing us will make things better for you?"

"What?"

Lilymon seemed taken aback, and so did Flybeemon. "What are you doing? Get out of here!"

"Shut up," Lilymon screamed and threw Flybeemon to the ground. A necklace of flowers formed in her hands and she wrapped it around the dragonfly's neck while he was momentarily dazed. Nephthys frowned at seeing the fight drain out of his body.

"Flybeemon, are you all right?"

At her voice he angled his head at her. A twitch in his eyes showed he realized what was happening, yet he was unable to fight against it.

"Forget about him, worry about yourself." Anger and uncertainty showed in Lilymon's voice, unaccustomed to having her victim just walk up to her. She hoped she showed herself calm enough.

"Why would you do that?"

Lilymon's face twisted again. There was barely a lid on all that rage. "You take my children away and dare ask that!"

"I'm sorry, your children are gone." Nephthys gestured behind her. "You're Lilymon, that is Leormon, a cat, not a plant. We just came here and you abducted them. You remember?"

"What? No?"

Uncertainty now. "Yes, just look. Think about it. We meant you no harm; we just needed shelter and water."

A stubborn set came into Lilymon's bearing. "Shelter and water, that's what they said, before taking everything. Why did you come back, why take my children again?"

"Oh no," Nephthys whispered. With her hands close together, forming a flower bulb, Lilymon levelled it dead centre. Her digivice felt warm in her hands watching particles of light gather though a narrow opening in the bulb.

"Run," Flybeemon said, unable to do more than look on. Restrained by the necklace he could only see between her and Lilymon.

Something broke the water all the way back in the oasis, big and green, a cactus.

"Flower ah!" Lilymon screamed when hundreds upon hundreds of needles sank into her back. The bulb opened and discharged, but her aim was thrown and the beam of energy cut a trench in the sand – only metres away from Nephthys. She coughed in the cloud of sand.

Alraumon's voice was still recognizable, but she sounded older. Instead of the diminutive plant a great cactus stood in the pool, drops of water cascading down over prickly green skin. "Stay away from my Nephthys!"

"I'm sorry," Nephthys mouthed to Lilymon. Out loud, she had only one thing to say. "Grab our friends!"

Nothing Nephthys had come to know, observing the crazed fairy, set her off faster than threatening to take more away from her. Togemon ran for the hub, able to grab a whole lot with her giant gloves, though the mitts did seem rather clumsy. Lilymon raced to intercept and Nephthys sprinted forward.

"Mach Jab," Togemon called out. Lilymon jumped over the punches lightly, imposing herself at the last minute between Togemon and the hub. The fairy's luminescent black eyes widened as she realized Togemon was holding no one.

Lilymon wavered on the verge of attacking. "Who are you? I – are you, my child?"

"No, I'm sorry," Togemon said.

"Everyone is always sorry." It was only a brief moment of lucidity, but it was enough to stall Togemon. Lilymon kicked up in the air, spraying Togemon's face with flowers. The heel of her boot kicked her between the eyes. "What good does that do me?!"

To that Nephthys did not have an answer. She crouched at Flybeemon's side, glad the fighting had scattered the pollen. The dragonfly looked at her dully. Quickly she broke the necklace, and night turned to day as awareness filled his eyes and he took a deep steadying breath.

"That was awful," he said.

Togemon gave a gurgle, and they both looked over to see her covered in spores and flowers. She wasn't going down, but couldn't breathe either. A new large bulb was forming from Lilymon's hands.

"She's going to shoot again," Flybeemon said.

Nephthys' eyes widened. "Stop her!"

He wavered, and she thought he finally had enough. Her promises of an easy solution had fallen flat. But he didn't. Thunder crackling he rushed Lilymon before she could fire, but Lilymon saw him coming and let the bulb fall apart. Flybeemon started to curse, but couldn't change his trajectory as she went into a spin. Her kick resounded loudly and Flybeemon went down again, biting dust. She jumped on him, hands wringing his neck.

Lilymon snarled. "Now, die alread–oof."

Togemon punched her off Flybeemon, sprawling Lilymon to the sand next to him. The fairy started to rise, but Togemon gave her no chance to, slamming her down and down with successive punches. She didn't let up. Nephthys cringed with every blow, but she couldn't find the words to tell her partner to stop. She wanted to, oh how she wanted to. Nobody should have to die, but Lilymon would never let them go.

Flybeemon sat up, his expression unreadable. She tried telling herself it was a mercy, to end this life of stealing travellers as substitutes for her own children. It was too hard to believe right now, and then Lilymon was dead.

"I did it, I actually did it," Togemon said. Her form blurred as she reverted. "I can protect you Nephthys, you see. I can."

"Yes, you can." She even managed a smile. Lilymon was dead, her children were dead, everyone was always dead. "I told you, didn't I? I have faith in you."

* * *

It took some time for the others to waken. They were groggy for a while longer after that. The hub offered shelter, and the pond water, so they could be given the chance to wake peacefully at their own time.

Flybeemon was checking on his crew, two grey armoured rhinoceroses – beasts of burden for the wagons –, a caterpillar called Kunemon and a bee-like digimon called Honey Beemon. They were none the worse for wear.

"The plant shows what is in the seed." A voice said close to her ear. Nephthys looked down into a weary, but smiling, face. "I knew trusting you was the right thing."

"Thanks, Hesire."

"Next time we'll listen when you say not to rush," Eboni said. Nephthys smiled, the first genuine smile since Lilymon was killed. She didn't believe Eboni wouldn't rush for a moment. The others were nodding or speaking consent. They were still lying, having been exposed to a lot of pollen.

"Can I speak to you? Alone?" Flybeemon said. She nodded and followed him.

"So who died and made you leader?" V-mon asked, halting them in their tracks.

Flybeemon answered. "You almost did, if it wasn't for her."

"Oh, right."

Flybeemon started without preamble when they had gone far enough away for anyone listening in. "I didn't want to say this before now, but I know who you are. Or, at least something of who you are. You were chased by guards in Burner. It was then I felt trouble was brewing and took my crew out of there. Good thing, considering the conflagration."

"We didn't burn the city," she said.

"I believe you, and I won't turn you in. Without your help I'd still be in a big mess. But the thing is, I'd offer to let you come with us. Safety in numbers and all that. We are going home and need to cross the river. For that we need to cross the bridge down south, the only way with wagons, and it's guarded. You'll never get through."

"It's all right. I understand."

He looked even guiltier at her easy acquiescence. "You wouldn't want to go south anyway. Go north, there's a way to cross the river there that is not guarded. There are some rocks in the river bed there you could use. Kind of a smuggler's track, or bandits."

Nephthys smiled, making Flybeemon turn his head away. He really didn't have to feel so put out about not helping them further. He had already done more than enough to earn her heartfelt gratitude.

"Thank you," she said. Thank you for showing this world isn't filled with the despairing and the despicable.


	8. Faulty Query

**Duat Diaries**

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**Disclaimer: Digimon does not belong to me. This fic is set in Lord Archive's Diaries Universe and is written with permission.**

**Chapter Eight **

_**Faulty Query**_

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The day was nearing its end when Wizarmon crested the final hill of sand between him and his first look at Query. As it had all the other times he had come this way the first sighting left him unimpressed. Coming from Burner, which even in its steady decline had a certain undeniable majesty, only made the feeling worse. Especially now that little should remain of that city but charred ruins and Query was the largest town this side of the river.

The heat was oppressive and for travelling on foot doing it by day was not recommended – but he needed to make good time and so had travelled through the heat. This was setting a bad precedent, but never before in his life had the wheels of fate moved so quickly. Muttering a few words under his breath the heat receded from his skin.

From a distance the town of Query was a motley collection of buildings; squared ones, ranging from anything from one storey to five, reminiscent of Burner's style, and dome-like structures that were the root of the settlement. In time the space consuming domes would all be replaced, he was sure.

Like most settlements he knew, it was built on rocky bedding which was smoothened out by years of use – the roads looked like they had actually been paved instead of stone weathered by the years. The town had grown in size since the construction project of Anubimon's new pyramid had started. Before that it had only been the last way-station of travellers to and from the High Priest's temple, but now it was suddenly important – workers, priests, merchants, construction material, it all passed through Query.

It wasn't until he came closer that he noticed something was off. Still, it wasn't until he entered the town proper that he could put a finger on what he sensed. Digimon were eyeing him with distrust, as if not sure what to make of him. That was fine for Burner, but he liked to think he had stayed in this town long enough to leave at least something of a good impression.

But looking beyond the first stares he noticed everyone was eyeing each other just as warily as they were him. There were also more strangers around than he remembered. Not all that odd, considering, for a thoroughfare town, but something about the whole package felt wrong.

Wizarmon thought he sensed an eagerness in the air, but eager for what? In his experience that never meant anything good.

The streets weren't usually so packed during this part of the day. Sure there were the remains of market stalls still out, the cries of harpers filling the air to get rid of their last wares of the day, and the eager voices of last minute haggling. Wizarmon saw no stalls, heard no harpers. In fact, aside from the strangers, who all travelled in groups, he saw little of the digimon he commonly associated with the town.

Within that crowd he stood out all by his lonesome.

Guessing the journey houses would already be full, Wizarmon soon left the main street, not that there were many side streets to choose from. Query was becoming more important, but it wasn't gaining much in residents who stayed longer than a few days.

Wizarmon was almost out of town again when he came upon the three storey building, a worn sign hanging limply above the door, the _Yawning Brawn_.

* * *

Eyes swung to Wizarmon the moment he entered the dried-out hole its proprietor called a journey house. It really was off the beaten track and that was why he liked it. The staff was interesting too, an odd bunch who nevertheless managed to stay in business together for years now. All other public places were always full these days; digimon had even taken to renting out rooms of their own homes and hovels. All of a sudden there were opportunities aplenty to make a little extra coin, even for the ones living in your basic kind of hovel.

The Yawning Brawn, a fitting name once you met the owner, was apart from all of that. It was still early, but with first-come first-serve mentalities most places were already filling up. Not so here, aside from the staff of three there were only five customers – apart from Wizarmon himself. For the Brawn he considered it busy.

Crossing the threshold Wizarmon tipped his pointy hat to the bouncer sitting on a stool next to the door. Gorimon gave a terse grunt, gesturing him forward with the arm that wasn't a dangerous gun. Some sand followed Wizarmon in, but on the dusty floor a few grains were hardly noticeable.

Next to cross his path was the serving girl, who had become just as much part of the furniture as Gorimon. Little ever changed here. In the life of a wanderer it was good to have a familiar place to come back to. "Good day, Floramon."

She spoke, plainly. "Priest. Wait at the bar."

Wizarmon shrugged and did as he was told. He usually sat there anyway, at the far end of the common room. Small round tables, on a single leg nailed into the ground, filled most of the floor. The place wasn't all that big, and neither was its clientele.

As he went he took time to observe the remaining digimon inside. In the corner to the left was a female in a red dress, Witchmon, a practitioner of magic, like himself. He hadn't seen her kind around often. He didn't have long to look without straining to look over his shoulder. The way she sat allowed her to oversee the whole common room while others had to exert more effort to see her in turn. And that effort would certainly be noticed. Interesting.

Floramon was heading her way now.

At the bar was the second customer, the cat digimon Mikemon. He had peered over his shoulder when Wizarmon had entered, but now paid him no more heed. No apparent heed, Wizarmon amended. He had enough experience to recognize a certain feigned nonchalance. Not rare among digimon these days, though such a practiced manner wasn't common either.

At a small table sat a group of three digimon, youngsters all of them who probably thought coming here was so daring compared to the other journey houses. Wouldn't they be disappointed?

Lastly, behind the bar – a rectangular slate of rock – the owner and barman, Nanimon, waved him over. He had a furtive cast to him when Wizarmon had entered, which was slow in diminishing. "I wasn't expecting to see you back here so soon."

"Neither was I," Wizarmon answered. He took a stool one over from Mikemon, setting his staff against the stone bar. "A glass of your clearest, please, Nanimon."

"The usual," Nanimon confirmed.

Nanimon took a large glass mug, which got a cursory glance from Mikemon, who had a dull metal goblet in front of him. Setting it down in front of Wizarmon the barman poured the clearest drink he served. Floramon's Delight, as Wizarmon had come to know over time. Aside from plant digimon it was rarely ordered, and plant digimon didn't often come to Query. With the exception of him and Floramon nobody every ordered it. He expected Nanimon to choke if it ever was.

Wizarmon placed it slightly to his side, the clear surface almost serving like a mirror. Without turning he could watch what happened behind him and who entered. Mikemon grinned, raised his glass to him, and took a sip of his own drink.

* * *

"So, what brings you back here? Weren't you heading north?" Nanimon asked. That was a question Mikemon would like to see answered as well. Interesting things were happening up north. To have an eyewitness report was invaluable, even one from the perspective of a priest.

He tried looking at it from the bright side, but even so, this guy was a priest. Having a priest in town was to be expected, but to have him stay here was not. Wasn't this place supposed to be off everyone's radar?

"I was, but I thought it better if I returned," Wizarmon replied. And why was that?

Still, even this wasn't cause for too much concern. An evasive priest wasn't rare, Mikemon thought. He hadn't met a single one of that order who wasn't secretive in some way. Truth be told the same could also be said for the Order he belonged to. No doubt the priests did think that way.

"Is it true then?" Mikemon suddenly said. "That Burner has been destroyed?"

A chair behind them shifted, by the sound one of the three digimon sitting together had responded. The priest would know who, with his liquid mirror.

"Yes," Wizarmon answered.

"May the Sovereigns have mercy," Nanimon said. "Was it Pharaohmon's killers, the evil invaders as is whispered, who did it? We saw the Phoenix Guard streak across the sky, to Burner. So, they didn't make it in time."

"Some say it was the Guard who torched Burner," Mikemon said, glancing over to gauge the reaction of the priest.

"Who told you that?" Wizarmon asked. The priest didn't give anything away with his voice – good, that made this more interesting. He knew he shouldn't think that way, interesting was something he lived for but couldn't actually use right about now.

Mikemon shrugged.

"A lot is being said these days," Nanimon said, giving his cat customer a look. "Especially after Lord Anubimon's address."

"What address?" the priest asked. Nanimon looked surprised and Wizarmon elaborated, "I was in the north, remember? Start with the highlights if you will."

Nanimon leaned closer. "The High Priest said Pharaohmon's killers arrived in Burner. Said it was the greatest evil of our time, he did, the Chosen of Legend, going rogue, desiring to rule the realm, perhaps even the entire world."

Which was ludicrous, Mikemon thought. Not that he could say anything – he hadn't even met the Chosen. He wondered if there really were any to be found in the realm. It would be just the thing to have everyone spooked by something that didn't actually exist. The Lady would know, and so would he soon, he just had to be patient. Too bad that wasn't actually his forte.

"And what do you think?" Wizarmon asked, leaning conspiratorially closer as well.

"I think it's bad for business," Nanimon said. He nodded once and straightened.

Wizarmon cracked a smile, hidden behind the folds of his cape; Mikemon could hear it in his voice. "You think everything is bad for business."

"It is though, isn't it? Burner was destroyed, by the Chosen, or the Phoenix Guard." The keep's eyes shifted nervously at that possibility. "You can see where those rumours have come from."

"Yes, the Phoenix Guard blazing across the sky and the next thing you know Burner is burned to the ground," Mikemon said sarcastically.

Floramon came over to the bar. With no new customers to serve she had little else to do. Wizarmon was apparently a regular, which Mikemon found sad for them. Always travelling, the priest was hardly a stable source of income. She asked, "Have you seen it?"

"From a distance," Wizarmon said.

Floramon's eyes widened. "But who did it?"

Wizarmon shook his head. "There was a battle. The Guard were there, it looked like there was an uprising. The Guard seemed to be winning, from a distance."

"So, the evil has been destroyed," Nanimon said. He nodded sagely, as if he never doubted the Phoenix Guard would.

"Perhaps," Wizarmon said, startling him.

* * *

A mug shattered. "The lies of you priests must end, the Chosen are the light incarnate. They cannot be destroyed by the corrupt."

All eyes turned to the angry Agumon, one of the youngsters Wizarmon had dismissed on entering. His companions tried to calm the saurian down, but he was having none of it. "Why are you still following the old ways? Your living god is dead and his city burned. Renounce his tyrannical army, raining fire from above; renounce his views of life and death. Death Priest Anubimon and Priestess of Life, Bastemon, what have they ever done for you?"

"Now listen here," Nanimon bellowed, "I don't want any of this business in my place – leave it outside!"

Wizarmon raised a silencing hand to Nanimon before facing the Agumon. "My friend, I believe you are mistaken. We do not believe Pharaohmon to be a god, but the aspect of the Sovereigns on this realm since their disappearance, the bringer of peace who freed us from the Tyrant of the Deep Sand."

"Just more lies, there never was a Tyrant other than Pharaohmon, and now Anubimon. The Chosen will set us all free as was foretold."

Witchmon gave a throaty laugh.

"Silence, blasphemer!" Agumon whirled around to face her.

She rose and sauntered over, the wicked glint in her eyes made the Agumon's two friends back off a step. Agumon was not that wise, or aware, of what he faced so brazenly.

Wizarmon reached for his staff. He saw Gorimon was watching the confrontation with interest. The ape's arm cannon was charging up. Wizarmon tried recalling the last time he had seen a bar fight here, but came up blank.

"A new group of heroes, to replace the old. Will you never learn?" Witchmon said. "There is no light, no hope, only apathy and weakness."

"Don't spout your cult nonsense at me," Agumon said.

"And death." Witchmon threw out a glob of water from her hand to Agumon. In moments it enveloped his face, making him gulp for breath that wasn't coming. He dropped to his knees, but the water remained where it was, firmly sealing him off from the life-giving air he needed.

"Release him, now," Gorimon demanded, his arm cannon pointed her way.

"For decay, for Apocalymon." Witchmon glowed with exultation. The fanaticism disgusted Wizarmon. Leaping from his seat, weaving his crescent staff in a circle he sliced through the water. With the spell cancelled out Agumon's life was saved, even though the youngster was a fanatic - of a different sort, but still - and he so disliked fanatics.

Gorimon fired, but Witchmon dropped underneath the blast. She laughed, clearly enlivened by the chaos she was causing.

Nanimon was boiling with anger. "This is an outrage!"

Wizarmon agreed. He moved in close just as she was about to rise from her crouch. At once she changed her mind and lunged forward, punching him in the stomach. All breath was knocked out of him, but Witchmon had brought herself close to him in order to strike. He placed his palm in her face, grabbing her over her nose and mouth. A strange and garbled noise escaped her, then a magical ball discharged from his palm and she went down.

"Getting foolhardy," Wizarmon muttered, clutching his abdomen with one hand. Then he turned harshly, pinning down Agumon and his two friends. "Don't even think about it."

Agumon growled, soaking wet, but alive. "We're going."

"Do that," Wizarmon said in a flat tone.

* * *

"Since when are Apocalymon's Children and the Order of Destined so outspokenly brazen here? Of course, the address, it fanned the flames." The strangers in the street, the tense atmosphere, all of it combined painted a not so pretty picture. Wizarmon looked at Nanimon. "How long have they been here and how many are there in all?"

"Too many, priest," Mikemon answered. "You picked a wrong day to return. News of Burner hit the fan hard. The only question is when this unholy kettle will explode." He gestured to the unconscious woman. "Given her posturing, not long now."

"That probably means tonight, cleric." Wizarmon looked in Mikemon's eyes. The cat didn't deny him. "We should tie her up, barricade the place."

Mikemon nodded.

"Now hold on here, it'll all blow over," Nanimon said. "We're not tying anyone up and we're not barricading anything. You'll ruin my business."

"Nanimon," Wizarmon began, raising his arms in a placating gesture.

"No," Nanimon said. Stomping out from behind his bar. "I don't care if you are priests, clerics, whatever. This is a place of business. I won't stand for it."

"Sir," Floramon said. Appearing calmly at the keeper's side, she just stood there with a delicate floral hand on his arm. Slowly he deflated.

"Good," Wizarmon said. "Now we have work to do."

* * *

Securing the building was a trial, and Nanimon resisted tooth and nail, despite his earlier acquiescence by Floramon's hand, against his property being used for something as crude as a barricade – so much so that even in the end Wizarmon simply acquiesced in turn. Not his establishment, not his business.

As such he had seen better barricades, but that was just how it was going to be. Nanimon didn't believe anything was going to happen. Wizarmon's instincts were telling him differently. This wasn't the scared and browbeat populace of Burner, as it had been days ago. This wasn't about Query natives, though some probably were.

Trouble started not long after dark. Sounds, angered voices at first, and later the sounds of fighting. Still off somewhere, Wizarmon thought, knowing that it wouldn't stay that way for long. He was proven right when, not too long after the first signs of unrest had started there was a pounding at the door.

"You will all die." Witchmon laughed. Haughty, even tied up and put in a corner next to the bar.

"Be quiet or be gagged," Floramon said. Not one to spout idle words she looked around for something to do just that. A dirty rag was lying next to a number of dirty pitchers. Witchmon's eyes followed Floramon's gaze. Her smile faded fast after that.

"We are closed, come back tomorrow," Gorimon said through the closed door, which wasn't much of a protection for more than keeping some of the cold out at night.

"Give us the priest and the witch," someone from outside shouted. It sounded like the Agumon they had thrown out. Evidently he had brought some of his friends.

"Not your friends outside lady," Mikemon said.

Witchmon scoffed. "Not yours either."

"We could give her to them," Floramon suggested.

"By the Dark Area you will," Witchmon said, straining in her ropes. After a few moments she had to admit defeat. "His children will destroy you for that."

A heavy knock reverberated through the door, nearly making it collapse inward outright. "They can take a number," Floramon said.

Wizarmon acknowledged their restraint. "If I come out, will you leave this place alone?"

The slightly muffled voice sounded from beyond the door. "As long as they renounce their ways and turn to the light!"

"Forcing digimon to follow you, is that really the way of your Chosen?" Wizarmon asked. "Would they approve?"

Agumon replied after a few moments of silence. "Come out and we'll leave them be."

So predictable, Wizarmon thought. He turned to the barman. "I shouldn't have to tell you all to stay out of trouble."

"No, I can't let a guest of the Brawn put himself at risk," Nanimon said, visibly puffing himself up. Despite his muscular physique Nanimon hadn't been in a real fight in years.

Wizarmon shook his head. "I'll be fine. Save my seat, and keep my room available."

* * *

The door closed behind Wizarmon. Agumon and his cultist friends stood around the entrance in a half-circle. He had brought some of his larger pals along. Beatable, Wizarmon supposed, but not preferable with the town in chaos and this little room to manoeuvre. And besides, they might surprise him.

"Good decision, coming out. Where's the witch?" Agumon demanded.

"No longer your concern," Wizarmon said.

Agumon seemed pleased. "Good, she deserved it. Now that you've surrendered, you're going to come with us."

"To see more of your 'friends', no doubt. Sorry, not interested." Wizarmon sprang forward and up, sailing over Agumon's head to the low-ceilinged building opposite. He hit the roof running.

Agumon's mouth was agape. "After him! Damn you, why didn't you grab him in the first place?!"

* * *

"I see you got away from them easily enough."

Wizarmon didn't turn around to face the speaker. He stayed still, crouched on the roof of a two-storied building near the main street. Clutters of strangers were locked in a protracted battle, with neither side willing to commit fully to the other. Credos were flung around as easily and readily as attacks. There was dying, but little of it was fast enough for the priest, as of yet. This could go on all night.

"I led them to a group of Apocalymon's worshippers. Agumon's demands for my capture faded fast after that," Wizarmon answered.

Mikemon joined him on the edge. Leaning his clawed mittens on the low parapet. "Do they still live?"

"I don't know." Some homes were wrecked on both ends of the thoroughfare, the refuge serving as impromptu cover for the two sides. Until, and unless, they started circling around each other they could keep the fighting up almost indefinitely. "With the way they're going, it wouldn't surprise me. How's the Brawn?"

"Left alone for now, I also led some groups around. There are enough confrontations going on that anyone even heading near any access road to the Yawning Brawn will end up in one of those fights. It'll be some time before anyone thinks of going there," Mikemon said.

Small fires, for now, had begun to break out over Query. Wizarmon nodded. "Good."

Mikemon looked over the fighting masses with disgust. "They are killing each other, but they are taking Query with it. For starters."

Wizarmon concurred. "One group wins over the other and it will bring more cultists out. Running  
amok the real threat remains."

"So," Mikemon said, letting the conclusion hang in the air between them.

Wizarmon nodded. This wasn't the way he was planning to spend the evening. Towns; he shook his head, always so full of trouble. "Exactly," Wizarmon said.

"One cleric and one priest, against two strong cults. Too strong, it seems we've grown lax in keeping watch over them all. Too many escaped east, past Black Box mountains, where Pharaohmon's control was weakest," Mikemon said. "And now, after Anubimon's speech, they feel vindicated or enraged enough to come back west to break the hold of the Orders, and each other. Your boss has no sense of peace, or did he want this to happen?"

Mikemon was trying to get a rise out of him, an easy thing for most priests, dedicated to Anubimon and the Order. Wizarmon didn't take it, which he knew told a lot about himself. "I'm not privy to my lord's thoughts. Are you to yours? Your mistress always struck me as too wily for that."

Mikemon didn't take the bait either. "Comes with the territory I suppose, leaving us underlings to deal with the mess and fallout of greater agendas."

"Indeed. And speaking of greater agendas, we might be seeing the same here."

"I've been thinking along those lines myself," Mikemon said. "Did the Order of Destined and Apocalymon's Children decide to use Pharaohmon's fall for their own devices, did they have a hand in it, or are they in turn being used? Either way, this could very well be the forefront of an invasion, of not one but two forces."

"Unless we stop them here," Wizarmon said.

"We'd need help," Mikemon said.

Wizarmon turned back from the main street. "And I know just where to find it."

Mikemon turned with him, following his line of sight and thought. "They won't listen; there are no more firm followers in this world, other than these cultists. We've grown weak, while they've strengthened in their banishment and mutual feud."

"A price we paid for civilisation," Wizarmon's reply was bitter. Cities and townships, no wars and an undefeated policing force, but the smaller brutalities – as Leomon, once magistrate of Burner had shown – made it a hollow civilisation.

Was it worth fighting for? Who was to say, but Wizarmon didn't want to see it fall in the hands of either cult. The result would be more of the same or, Sovereigns forbid, even worse. He did not applaud fanaticism.

* * *

Wizarmon ran, leaping from roof to roof, over the quiet streets and the streets in turmoil, letting his power carry him, repelling him from the earth and stone beneath him. Lithe Mikemon had no trouble following and, near the edge of town, take over the lead.

The sand outside didn't slow them, spraying back with every step Wizarmon took as he bent the earth to his will. His magic, honed over the years, made him adept at desert travel. Mikemon hardly left an impression as he ran. Outside the town of Query was what was once a quarry – the source of the material for the homes. Over time, due to disuse and the elements, it had turned into an opal bowl.

A road led to the old quarry from the town, but Wizarmon and Mikemon were staying clear of it. The cultists hadn't thought about completely surrounding Query, but a few shapes could be seen moving on the road near town.

"We're fortunate not enough of them crossed over to cordon the town," Mikemon whispered. "What do you plan on offering these workers? I want these digimon stopped as much as you do, but I don't have anything to offer. Nor can my Lady be spared."

"They are already on my Lord's payroll; he can stand to pay them a little more."

Mikemon snorted. "You're pretty easy with someone else's money. They've not moved since the fighting started. Let's hope 'a little more' will be enough to convince them to put their lives on the line."

"Everyone has his price," Wizarmon said upon reaching the perimeter of the bowl.

Torches were lit all around, so none who entered could do so unseen. Bonfires gave off a play of light and shadow within the encampment. Though they had done nothing for the town the gargantuan digimon were alert for trouble, staying clearly inside the light and watching all sides carefully.

"You're pretty cynical," Mikemon said. "Even for one of Anubimon's order."

Wizarmon gave no reply, entering first. The change under his feet was clear; the almost smooth stone appeared carved with purpose, rather than happenstance. It was even smoother to travel than the roads in Query. The slopes of the bowl made walking the smooth rock an effort that also required more care. Eyes were upon the two from the first moment and so they walked down slowly, taking care not to make any movements that could be misconstrued as hostile.

* * *

From the gathering a single digimon, of saurian or draconian breed, approached. Mikemon had not much interest in making the difference. Others were playing cards – wherever did they get them large enough for their hands? – and shifted positions subtly, which for their sizes meant painfully obvious, to watch what was going to happen. And to act should it be needed. Mikemon wondered if they really would, but apparent bravado oft worked as well as true bravery.

He smiled to himself; it had worked for him to get to the charge he kept back in room above the Yawning Brawn. This insurgence had to be stopped quickly though, his watchfulness was negated being out here. Had he made a mistake coming? His sense of right said no, his sense of duty said yes, he was taking a terrible risk. The Lady would understand, she would have to.

"Greetings," Wizarmon began.

"Go back to where you came from. In case you haven't noticed this place is for the large and up crowd," the Cyclomon said.

A fool could see that, Mikemon thought, but he held his tongue.

"Where we came from doesn't have the peace this place has," Wizarmon said.

"Peace?" Cyclomon spoke rambunctiously. A roaring, protesting the notion of any kind of peace, erupted from the many maws. A mixture of laughter, boasting, protesting, but nothing actually aggressive. Yet even so the sound must give the parties afoot in Query pause. Mikemon was curious to check, but he dared not turn lest he made them think he was discomfited.

"Of course there is peace," Wizarmon continued as if nothing had happened. "No fighting, no dying. True, you show remarkable vigilance, but there is time for play as well. Not so in poor Query over there. Not so at all."

"Your point little one? My boys here are not soldiers, but hard workers on break – the last if they won't shape up on our return." He spoke the last words not for them. Grumbling and some laughing sounded.

"You are the overseer, then?" Wizarmon asked.

Cyclomon said, "That's right."

"That is fortunate," Wizarmon said. "Let me make myself known as well, I am priest in the Order of Death. My companion is Cleric in the Order of Life."

Cyclomon brought his head down close. When he exhaled a gust of something rank washed over Mikemon and Wizarmon. Mikemon couldn't help himself and gagged, with his sense of smell it was an assault of epic proportions. After a moment, and another breath that nearly killed Mikemon, Cyclomon raised his head again. Dear Lady, what he braved for doing what was right.

"Yes, I remember you now," Cyclomon said.

Wizarmon cocked his head. Damn him and his composure – or lack of a functioning olfactory organ, whichever the case may be.

"I'm an overseer of the construction project; I see all that passes through to the benighted old temple. You're one of those that don't often roost home. Like that Wisemon fellow." Cyclomon asked.

"That's correct overseer, on both our parts. His duties have taken Wisemon all over the realm, including a long time service as court liaison. As for myself, I am one of Anubimon's wandering priests, some of his eyes and ears in the realm, and occasionally his voice," Wizarmon said. "Now that we've confirmed who I am I wish to enlist the services of yourself and your boys."

The overseer smirked with draconian lips. "I'm sure you would, but we have no interest going in there. It's too small and getting smaller." He spoke loudly, and behind him others sniggered.

Wizarmon leaned on his staff. "Really? You have no interest in stopping a cultist insurgence, when there's got to be a boon for you and your crew in it somewhere, overseer?"

Cyclomon looked pensive for a saurian. "And who makes sure we get it?"

"I do," Wizarmon said. The priest stood with his back straight and tapped the ground with the butt of his staff. Mikemon was impressed with the air Wizarmon was able to project. "I'll vouch for you and your reward. Being on my way back to the High Priest's side as it is, before encountering this mess, it will not be out of my way, or yours. We'll report to him together."

"There's still an awful lot of firework going on over there. It's easy promising us the world if there's no one left to collect," Cyclomon said, bringing his head lower. Was he supposed to be more threatening like that? Mikemon wasn't that impressed, and neither was Wizarmon by all appearances. Just don't breathe, Mikemon fervently wished.

"Indeed, this is why we'll let them weaken one another first, before we go in to finish the job. Minimize the risk, maximize the reward, overseer," Wizarmon said

"You're speaking my language, priest."

"He speaks everyone's language," Mikemon said, quietly as to be nigh unheard. This priest was slick, able to show a façade that hid his true face and motives, holding the peace of his function yet squander the possessions of his lord like it was the High Priest who owed him.

Strange and unsettling, Mikemon resolved to get more than some distance from him as soon as possible. He ought to have left yesterday – damned curiosity streak. And here he was, again indulging himself.

* * *

Some time passed ere Wizarmon and Cyclomon were agreed on the proper moment to intercede in town. More fires had broken out, but surprisingly they didn't last long. Tales of Burner had spread and where one fire started the locals and travellers alike – those not involved in the cults – were quick to band together to put them out. Leaving their shelters to save at least some of their town they became targets. The death toll increased.

It was clear the two sides had tried to get around the other, to strike from behind, but once again the fighting had drawn back to the main street. Now the two camps were completely entwined into one large brawl. Two sides blurred into one, becoming nearly indistinguishable. Mikemon noted that it was the same for the cultists fighting. Two who, by previous actions, were on the same side, had begun attacking each other. Damned sloppy, Mikemon shook his head and turned to his companion on the roof.

"They will come," Wizarmon said, crouched beside him.

"They'd better," Mikemon said. Already he was planning for the eventuality that the overseer had just complied to get rid of them. Cyclomon had certainly been happy to see them off for scouting. Saving Query was important, but he had other duties – pressing duties.

Well, they'd know soon enough. Just minutes ago a ball of coruscating energy had been propelled aloft; the agreed upon signal.

"Oh, look, something is happening," Mikemon said.

Several digimon at the edge of the brawl were trying to veer away. Mikemon's sensitive ears could pick it up, a faint rumbling in the distance.

"We can't have that," Wizarmon said. The priest rose up, energy crackling along his glove and staff. Levelling his staff at the breakaways he fired a stream of thunder, tangling their feet and halting their progress. Next, from his hand, a ball of energy shot against the side of another's head. Wizarmon ducked back behind the low parapet. On the street the cultist, a burning Meramon, turned on the ones just tripped up, mistaking them for the one who shot him.

"That'll keep them busy," the priest said.

"We won't need much more, I can hear them coming," Mikemon said.

When the crew of workers went into Query they resembled a stampede more than any gallant force out to save the town. There was no mistaking what they intended, barrelling down on the cultists. Unfortunate it was, for the two sides, that they had converged to fight on the main street, the only one large enough to have a stampede in.

With some help from the sidelines the insurgence, minus some lucky stragglers, was stopped dead in its tracks. At least in the here and now, and Mikemon took comfort in that – the times when the cults were strong, before forcefully banished, were virulent with violence. Communities had been ripped asunder because beliefs ran in polar opposites. Mikemon didn't wish for a return to those times.

* * *

The Yawning Brawn had also seen conflict. Scorch marks lined the street and the door was gone. So was its frame and some of the walls had holes in them, but the building remained standing. Not bad, considering. Mikemon's eyes went to the second floor, which was also intact, as far as he could see from below. While he stood contemplating, Wizarmon strode past him and ventured inside.

There was a click and a hum. "Hold your fire; I've had enough for one night," the priest said.

Mikemon entered in time to see Gorimon lower his weapon. Yes, it was clear they had seen fighting in the time they were gone. The whole crew was sequestered behind the bar. The stone made for excellent cover.

Wizarmon sat himself down, and after a few moments so did Mikemon.

"What is she doing loose?" Wizarmon asked. Witchmon looked at him sullenly.

Floramon answered as succinctly as she always did. "Her friends weren't as friendly as she thought."

"My friends, what happened out there? Is it over?" Nanimon asked.

"It is," Wizarmon said. "I'll have another drink if you don't mind Nanimon, before I turn in for the night."

"I'll have the same," Mikemon added.

Nanimon smiled in relief. "This one is on the house. For us all." He gestured for everyone to sit, including Witchmon. She looked abashed, but with a slight shake of her head as if she could not quite believe it, she joined them.

* * *

Mikemon at last returned to the small room he rented on the second floor. With a single bed it was far from spacious, and that bed was taken. He checked up on its occupant quickly, it had been a rough night.

Satisfied no one had entered he sat down at Chuumon's bed, the small mouse was still out of it most of the time. After today it became even more pressing that he return to his Lady's side as soon as possible. He hadn't gotten as much information from the priest as he'd have preferred, but this one was a solitary operator – much like he was – and not easily put in a forthcoming position. Or he genuinely didn't know anything, which was also possible.

Unlikely, something had been going on with the whole priestly order for some time. Mikemon knew the rumours; after all he had seeded some himself from what he learned when Chuumon was awake and lucid. What the little mouse had said, when he was through his delirium, filled Mikemon with dread. The cultist resurgence, Anubimon's continued build-ups, his damning speech – the High Priest had to know what he unleashed by damning the Chosen. They were known to most, even if most didn't deify them like the Order of Destined did.

Trouble was brewing, and if the whole desert was in an uproar it would be even more of a challenge to bring the bedridden mouse to the temple.

* * *

The night had gotten cold. A relief at first, but pretty soon the chill became as penetrating as the day's heat had been. A truly biting dichotomy, and one she had been familiar with all of her life. Back home, back on Earth, Nephthys had spent a few nights out in the desert, alone. Her new friends didn't have that luxury – an odd thought, thinking her old predicament a luxury. The sentiment fit though, odd as it was.

She was glad her friends were able to hold their own, a least for now. They weren't clear yet.

The desert had proven itself a quiet presence, only now stirred to life. Nephthys didn't know what she was expecting. Sure the Digital World was strange, but aspects of Burner had almost seemed like the city back home. With only the inhabitants true oddities the world itself had mostly escaped notice. But here the world was undeniably strange. Rocks and sand should have given way to rocks and grasses lining the river bed. Like the Nile back home it should have been almost verdant.

Instead they had come to a wide crack, as wide as a large river certainly and just as long and winding. A tear in the ground, where no bottom could be seen. And there was water, almost as wide as the ravine, torrential and roaring to be almost deafening. It floated near the top of the ravine, somehow cohesive without dripping. As if the river had once been normal, but something had knocked the ground away, forgetting to inform the water it should fall with it.

"Found it!" Eboni's voice pierced the shroud of the night. Her friend had come alive at the unnatural sight. Understandable, but she was too loud, did she not know how far her voice carried?

Nephthys shook her head, probably not. But then, who was there to listen anyway? This land was incapable of supporting life. A river like this, she couldn't fathom it having a delta. Not one with a green – or purple, recalling the oasis – plant life. Just reddish rock and a deep abyss.

Nephthys gazed north, where on Earth the Nile Delta would be. The water was flowing in the opposite direction. She set off for Eboni, as other shapes in the night were doing. "This really is another world. It's incredible."

"The river? What else would it look like?" Alraumon asked.

Sethos fell in step with her. After their mishap he had stayed closer than he had before. So had the others, until reaching this location, which she understood all too well. They had not her experience in the open, even heeding her more they still were too enthusiastic. "Right, what else?"

The stones were there, as her new friend Flybeemon had said, set apart too far for human standards, but a digimon might use them to cross. Flying rocks, if there was flying water, why not? White surf surrounded them, and water oft flowed over the low ones, making them slippery at best.

Friend. She supposed he could be at that, not that they'd ever meet again. It had been good to meet a friendly face, one who knew – or suspected – a lot about them, but didn't try to exploit it.

Plotmon hopped out from Ahmose's arms to the cool rock and sand below their feet. The puppy digimon was just about continuously carried by his partner to keep the pace. A day in the blistering heat, even sheltered somewhat by the oasis, had brought home they needed to travel a lot during the night. The little puppy glowed brightly, changing his form.

"Dobermon will take us across," Ahmose said.

Dobermon raised his sleek snout proudly. "I can, no harm will come to you on my back."

Another light briefly lit the area. "Not if Raiamon takes us first," Eboni said.

"There's no need for her, Dobermon can take two trips if necessary," Ahmose said.

Eboni snorted. "So can Raiamon, but this will be faster."

"What he can do I can do," Raiamon said, her tone daring anyone to disagree.

Dobermon nodded his sleek head. "Of course, but they'll be safe with me."

Nephthys winced, Dobermon meant well, but his statement could easily be misunderstood. Which was exactly what Raiamon did. "You're saying they're not safe with me?!"

"No," Dobermon was quick to say. "I'm not saying anything of the sort."

"Let's go Raiamon," Eboni said. "Nephthys, Sethos, come with us. You too Alraumon."

"V-mon can go with Dobermon," Raiamon said.

V-mon made a face. "What? Why ever for?"

"You'd just braid my hair," Raiamon said.

"It's already braided!" V-mon protested.

"Then you'd un-braid it." Raiamon roared right back.

Nephthys sighed. It was going to be a long night.


	9. Homestead

**Duat Diaries**

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**Disclaimer: Digimon does not belong to me. This fic is set in Lord Archive's Diaries Universe and is written with permission.**

**Chapter Nine **

_**Homestead**_

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The bone dry sand crunched underneath her padded feet. She could feel its blistering heat through the soles of her shoes. It was best to just keep moving. So hot. It had been surprisingly windless this day. Yesterday had seen them in a big sandstorm lasting well into the night, but now the sand had ample opportunity to bake underneath the sweltering sun. And it had.

A print had been left behind in the sand in front of her, the first of a trail Nephthys had long searched for and no longer expected to find. The beast had started off hiding his trail when he had been near their home, but had stopped in the mistaken belief that the desert would do the remainder of the work for him. Alas, the desert had faltered, and Nephthys had not; though with the gruelling heat it was a challenge not to head back. As it stood, she was the only one of the Chosen still out, day after day.

A wind was starting to pick up though, before long it would change the face of the sands and rocks, erasing her find for all time. Nephthys crouched above the print. She brought a gloved hand, of the same wan white material as the loose fitting robes covering her body, towards it. It was best to leave as little skin exposed to the sun as possible.

She fingered the paw print, its outline, centre, and the depressions of the claws. Lean and far apart, a predator on four legs, and unlike before it was not alone. Three of them had been here, wishing to hide their comings and goings. That didn't make for a good impression on her.

She rose, seeing the sun already starting to dip lower. The days moved quickly indeed. Having found what she came for Nephthys knew she had no more business being out. Following the tracks further was foolhardy, certainly while by herself and with a wind picking up. Even so she felt at peace alone in the desert, a feeling of belonging.

In peace it was easy to lose your guard, unless you had something to keep focused on. For her it was a lion's face coming for her in her dreams. When it happened, which fortunately was getting longer in between, she woke up in a sweat. Last time was, what, two, three, days ago? She reckoned it was something in that vein.

Counting herself lucky she turned, leaving the print to be swallowed up by the sand. Nephthys set a harsh pace for herself in returning to the shelter.

* * *

Her pace was not harsh enough. The outer wave of the sandstorm overtook Nephthys on the last stretch. It struck her back so suddenly she stumbled, managing only in the last moment not to fall. Bent over she continued, chastising herself for waiting so long to return.

Just when she thought the storm was getting the best of her she broke through, coming into an area of calm. Walls of sand moved on both sides of the lull. Below her feet the ground had shifted to gravel and now to full stone. Now she could finally see what she had felt. She stood at the precipice of a great hole. It was easy a hundred metres in diameter, with walls that dropped sharply.

Had the sandstorm not veered around the crater she would have fallen over the edge and not known until it was too late to stop herself. What power kept this particular depression sheltered Nephthys didn't know, nor did their digimon friends.

Directly below, constructed partly into the rock wall, was a stocky building. It was a nondescript structure, like most of the houses in Burner, only bigger. It was made from weathered sandstone. Or sandstone that had weathered elsewhere as there was no breeze within the pit, ever.

There was enough room for them all. They had water coming up from a well and a storehouse of foodstuffs. Though the latter would run out sooner rather than later for now it was home. Standing up there the sight warmed her heart.

Brushing sand off her robes she took the winding steps down, following them in a half-circle along the walls to the bottom until reaching the far end from the house. The shade was a welcome relief.

"Nephthys!" Alraumon's happy voice called out while she drew back the hood, freeing her long hair with a shake. Perhaps Eboni had the right of it, wearing it short, but she couldn't bring herself to cut hers. "You're back, you're finally back." Her happy tone turned into one of reproach. "Where were you? What were you thinking going out alone?"

Nephthys waited for her partner to rush over from where she had been sitting, at a small distance from Hesire and Skelamon. The two boys looked over briefly before being once again invested in their activities. From what she could see they were drawing a mixture of hieroglyphics and digicode in a pile of sand they had brushed together. None of the others were outside.

"You'd shrivel up if you came," Nephthys said, taking her partner in a long hug. "And I know what I'm doing out there. Believe me, there's nothing to worry about."

"I know," Alraumon said. "So, you didn't find anything?"

Nephthys stiffened momentarily. Alraumon drew back. Some might think that when she held herself back it was because of dimness, but there was nothing dim in Nephthys' shy partner. With but a momentary hesitation on Nephthys' part her partner knew what was going on. Alraumon sighed. "You did find something."

"Tracks," Nephthys said. "They were here again last night. Don't worry, they're gone now."

She didn't say it would only be until nightfall, but suspected Alraumon knew that as well as she did.

Alraumon took her hand. "Come inside."

* * *

Hesire looked away from Nephthys and Alraumon, a frown marring his features. He hadn't known she was out there still. Alraumon had been here all afternoon, so he had assumed her partner had been as well. No, truth be told he hadn't thought about Alraumon's presence at all. Scholarly pursuits didn't wait for anyone. And he and Skelamon were learning a lot of each other.

He should pay more attention not to lose time like that again. This world was dangerous, something which he had not forgotten. She shouldn't be out there alone even if she knew best what was out there. None of them should go unless the need was high, and that he didn't see.

When he looked away Hesire quickly drew another sign in the sand, and then two more, drawing the hieroglyphics from his mind. Skelamon watched, and mimicked the signs to get a feel for them. What had they been discussing? Oh yes. "Bast was a solar deity, and goddess of war. Feline, she was often depicted as a woman with a lion's head. She's also called Bastet, or Ubasti."

Now Skelamon took his turn, drawing a symbol in the sand with a desiccated finger. Not digicode, at least not completely, but a clear pictograph of a sun and a cat. "The marking above the Temple of Life, led by High Priestess Bastemon," Skelamon said, "doesn't quite conform to any of your signs for Bast."

"The same way it didn't fit with Anubimon."

Skelamon nodded. "But the remaining similarities cannot be denied. Solar goddess, temple of life, Bastet and Bastemon, it's amazing. Yet, goddess of war, now that I don't see – she celebrates life, though some of her followers can be a tad wild. Cats, it's in their nature."

"Perhaps she just hasn't grown into that role yet. Or it's denied her here. All death aspects are under Anubimon's dominion, and war lies with the Phoenix Guard. With war and death not in her portfolio she only has the sun and the life flowing out of it. Bastet was also seen as the goddess of ointments and viewed as the wife of Anubis when he became god of embalming."

Skelamon shook his head, and an ominous rambling ensued. It hadn't taken Hesire long to grow used to his partner's odd body, but he could see how it might be hard on others. "Anubimon and Bastemon don't have such a relationship."

"Are you sure? There are always layers upon layers. Feigned disinterest, open malice, or hidden passions? The old stories are full of those."

But Skelamon shook his head. On his skull visage he had a look that he was utterly certain such a thing was ludicrous. "There is no evidence of such; they are, indeed, disinterested in each other and openly disdainful of each other's followers. It's said they haven't spoken face to face in years; their temples are separated from each other by the great river. Aside from their ranks, they share nothing except both being sworn companions to Pharaohmon. They were there when he defeated the Tyrant of the Deep Sand, it is so said."

"Another mysterious being of which I known little," Hesire said, bringing a hand to his chin. "Who was he? What did he look like?"

"A great evil that had to be defeated. That's all we know. Perhaps more is known in the Temples, and surely the High Priests know. We speak of him only by title, his name forgotten lest he be brought back – or so is the fear," Skelamon answered.

"We should ask them," Hesire mused out loud. Skelamon looked affronted, but relented quickly. What knowledge those ancient beings possessed was hard to imagine and for the two of them the greatest lure of all. "You can't tell me you don't want to know? There is a being of evil, Apep, who was destroyed time and again by the sun god Ra. Is there a similar connection with this Tyrant and Pharaohmon?"

Questions aplenty, and already their surroundings had stopped to matter. If there were tangible connections, perhaps they could delve into a hint of what was to come.

Though Apep was defeated, he rose again every night for Ra to battle. Was this Tyrant returning to lay claim to the land? Was that why they were here? If it was, if they did what was expected of them, could they return home? The others would like that, a small part of him thought. But that was in the future still. First, they needed answers and he was the one to figure those out.

* * *

The wonders of a modern kitchen was theirs, were not the refrigerator glaringly hot and the area above the stoves near freezing. The tap didn't pour water, but soap, and hadn't that been a nasty surprise. For everyone actually, as V-mon had been the one to discover that particular feature.

She hadn't liked his expression then and neither, after the fact, had the others. The insufferable blue lizard had suffered for it; Leormon hadn't been amused by having her mouth doused in soap. Consequently he was banned from the kitchen.

Now, though it had taken some time to adjust, Eboni was relatively sure she got the hang of the place. There was a pan of water boiling in the fridge, a stone tray – as light as pumice – with vegetables sitting next to it.

"Sethos, get me more water," Eboni said.

Sethos and Ahmose were sitting by the one small table in the kitchen. She'd almost thrown it out to save what space there was. The younger boy looked up. "What do you need more water for?"

"The sprouts are dirty, and I want them cleaned before boiling them. I'm making a proper meal here. And get me some of those brown sticks for seasoning."

Sethos grouched, but they were all rotating kitchen duty. Today was his turn helping out and she wasn't letting him slack off at the table. She had seen Ahmose letting him off when he was cooking.

It had come as a surprise that Ahmose knew how to cook and quite well at that. He was the only one besides her. Nephthys was good with a fire, but Eboni pulled her nose up at trying scorpion kebab. Fortunately there were no scorpions, but then, what were those things Nephthys had made for them? Best not to think about it.

"Yes, ma'am," Sethos said. His tone was almost like he was going to salute next, and she scowled even though he did nothing untoward. She tried to hold her temper back, she really did. Lately she even thought she did quite well, given the circumstances.

"Aren't you a bit too strict?" Ahmose asked.

Eboni crossed her arms and cocked her head. Typical of him, to see things directly opposite. "Aren't you a bit too lax?"

"Maybe you're right," Ahmose admitted, which surprised her. Her face showed that surprise openly. "But I feel bad keeping him around when I work. He doesn't like sitting still, never has."

"You've known him before coming here," Eboni said. She smiled wryly. "Did he live near you?"

"He doesn't actually," Ahmose said, looking far off. "I met him when I was working; he often hung around the busy streets."

"A street urchin," Eboni concluded. It was sad, but not everyone had a home to go back to.

"That's what I thought, but his family is actually pretty well off," Ahmose said.

"Then what's he doing on the streets?"

Ahmose shrugged. "He doesn't like staying in one place, I guess. I've asked, but I've never gotten much out of him about what he does or where he goes when he's not around me. I only know he's not home much."

"He lacks discipline then," Eboni said, then winced. "I sound like my mother. Can you believe it?"

"I'm sure your mom is a nice person," Ahmose said. She noticed he spoke carefully, as if he wanted to avoid a conflict. As if she was the reason they often argued – she wasn't the one who didn't make sense.

"She is," Eboni said. "But I don't want to be like her, I don't want to be a mom. And, surprise, that's what I'm becoming. A homemaker, everyone's substitute mom."

She waved her arms animatedly, indicating the kitchen in which she spent so much time.

"I think you'd make a good mom," Ahmose said. He was sincere, she realized. That just made her more annoyed.

Eboni pinned him down with a glare. "You think I want this? Coming here I wanted to live the adventure. A whole new world to explore and sights to see, I felt free, for the first time in my life. "

Ahmose shook his head. "This adventure is a mess; you shouldn't want it so much."

"And why shouldn't I? You think this kitchen is any better, trying to make sure the house is cleaned, making sure all of you do what you have to do, while all you do is act on whatever you want!" Eboni shouted.

"And you're doing a terrific job," Ahmose said, and he was still sincere.

That was the last straw, she could take sarcasm, but this was too much. He thought this was the right thing to do, if she let that continue pretty soon this would be all she did. "And you think that's a compliment?! I want to be out there!"

Now Ahmose got up from his seat, glaring. "There's nothing out there but sand and rock and digimon who want to kill us."

"No, there has to be more. Just beyond the horizon." Her stance dared him to disagree.

Ahmose cocked his head to the side. "I think I hear Sethos calling. I'll help him out with the well, the winch has been jamming."

* * *

Nephthys and Alraumon shared a bemused glance when Ahmose rushed past them, Plotmon hot on his trail.

Someone yawned. "When did you get back?"

"Just now Leormon," Nephthys answered. The fiery cat was lying in the living room, just outside the kitchen, "What's going on here?"

Leormon grinned lazily. "The usual, mommy and daddy are arguing again."

"Ah."

Leormon looked over her shoulder, to the kitchen behind her, and then beckoned Nephthys to come closer. She whispered, "Next time you go out, perhaps you can take us with you. Just for a bit."

"Sure," Nephthys said. Satisfied Leormon put her head back on her paws, drowsing.

Nephthys put her head inside the kitchen. "I'm back; I'm going to lie down for a bit."

"Yeah, yeah sure. Find anything new out there?" There was a hopeful look in Eboni's eyes. Leormon wasn't kidding when she said Eboni wanted to get out of the day to day. If what she found out there was any indication Eboni might get her wish for excitement soon enough.

"No," Nephthys said. "Nothing new."

"Okay," Eboni said, trying not to sound disappointed. She did a passing job at it. "I'll call you when dinner's ready."

* * *

Nephthys stepped back out of the house, looking up at the sky filled with sand. Seeing the storm's fury she was doubly glad she only suffered the periphery of its power. Turning left outside the door she followed the line of the building, rounding its corner to come into the shade of the rock face.

Ahmose and Sethos were there, getting water up from the well, but she didn't stop to chat. The winch was sticking, and the two of them were completely caught up in getting a bucket up from below.

The stairs were, for some reason, on the outside of the building. While ending on the second floor the stairs started a little ways from the house. Going up the stairs cradled the well in the nook between the stairs and the house.

A curtain hung in the door frame at the top of the steps, unmoving despite the tempest of sand raging above. She pushed it aside, looked up as she always did, and continued. She wasn't back in the house yet, behind the curtain was a narrow passage between the rock wall and the house. It was open to the sky above. Dark stone on one side, lighter sandstone on the other, but the darker stone was cut as smooth as the sandstone.

If she went all the way through she'd find an open balcony, directly above the storehouse. Halfway though there was a door to the inside. Nephthys took it, coming into a small hallway with one door to the left and one to the right. She took the left one, passing by yet another drab curtain.

Behind it was a rather austere room, much like the rest of the house. It had everything they needed though. A closet and some shelves were cut into the sandstone walls, and three beds were lined up opposite the closet. They only used two as this was the girls' room. Their partners slept in the same beds, which Nephthys didn't mind at all. Having Alraumon around was calming.

Her partner followed behind, going straight for their bed. Nephthys started to strip out of her robes until she wore just her normal dress. The closet was next to useless, just an empty space with nothing to hang anything on, so she put her folded survival wear on one of the shelves. A similar package lay on the shelf next to it. Fashioned from the cloth Flybeemon had been kind enough to give them the robes helped a lot when going out during the day.

She smiled as she remembered the process of making them. They had learned a lot about each other that day. That she knew how they should look, that Ahmose was pretty good with needle and thread, that Eboni had the patience of a fruit fly for tasks like that – even though she wasn't half bad when she truly set her mind to it – and that Hesire and Sethos were next to useless.

They couldn't cook either, as they had discovered on a later night.

"What are you smiling about?" Alraumon asked.

"Memories, some happy ones for a change."

All in all there was nothing really odd for a room of a desert dwelling in another world, except for one more item. Completely incongruous, a PC sat on a corner desk. It didn't work and the novelty of it had worn off with that discovery. She looked at it now though, had there been a glare that shouldn't have been?

Shaking her head Nephthys put her head down. A short rest before dinner, her last thoughts before closing her eyes.

* * *

Someone had just entered the room, thinking Nephthys asleep. But she was a light sleeper, even before the Digital World. A feeling like a cold hand wrapping around her heart made her roll off the bed, reaching for her digivice and Alraumon. Her partner, sleeping right next to her, was thrown roughly off the bed as Nephthys grabbed hold of her. With one quick roll she had brought the bed between them and the intruder. The plant squeaked in panic, dropping on her head.

"No, wait, it's just me," Sethos said, holding up his hands half in a warding gesture and half placating. He'd come alone. "I didn't mean to frighten you."

"Why are you here, this is the girls' room," Alraumon said. The floor was hard enough to knock her mood right over. Stepping around the bed she started shooing him off.

"I really need to talk to you," Sethos said. He wasn't letting Alraumon push him out the room.

Nephthys straightened her dress. "About what?"

She could guess at what Sethos meant and she wasn't disappointed when he spoke. "About what's out there."

Still she sought to be evasive. Sometimes, no, better make that all the time, it seemed Sethos and V-mon lacked caution. To survive in a harsh environment you had to be patient. "Out there?"

Sethos stepped closer, ignoring Alraumon. The plant girl put her hands on her hips, scowling up at him.

"Yes, you know what I mean," Sethos said. "We are still being hunted; we can't assume we're not. But instead of increasing the distance or do something to turn the tide, we're staying put, right here, where everyone can find us. I need your help."

"Mine?" Nephthys said hesitantly.

"Think about it. You're the only one who's going out there. When have the others? Eboni gets cagey here, but it's horrible out there so she stays anyway. Ahmose wants to find a way home, but he and Plotmon want us all to be safe too and this place is safe. Hesire might go, when he and Skelamon decide their useless talk is actually useless, but that will take a while. And by then I think it's going to be too late. If we're to mean something or find a way home, we have to leave this place. We have to."

Nephthys shook her head. "But what can I do?"

"They won't listen to me, but they will to you. You're the very reason we made it this far. If you say we have to leave they'll believe you."

"I- I can't. Just let me rest some more, Sethos. It was tiring out there." She started to sit back down on the bed, hoping he would take it as a sign to leave.

He didn't, stepping past Alraumon completely now. He stood right in front of her bed, looking very intense. She shifted uncomfortably. Sethos spoke, "You've been going out longer every day. What is it you're trying to find? Did those tracks return? That's it, isn't it?"

She stiffened, and slowly looked him in the face. She thought about it, and while she didn't care much for the intensity of his desires to get them moving again she understood the point he was trying to make. What he failed to understand was how easily the desert could kill. Without just cause they shouldn't just go out there. That was why she was so reluctant to mention the tracks she found. They didn't realize how fortunate they were to have found this place when they did.

Nephthys let out a brief sigh. Sethos would remember those tracks. "I did, and more this time. I was hoping they would leave."

"But they haven't," Sethos said, a note of triumph in his voice.

She shook her head. "They come every night."

"We don't know if they are really after us," Alraumon spoke up.

"You don't really believe that, do you?" Sethos said wryly. "You can't be that naïve."

"Please don't speak to Alraumon that way," Nephthys said, suddenly forceful.

"Right, again, sorry. I'll leave you now." He turned abruptly, disappearing back in the hallway dividing the two rooms. He had reached a decision; she could see it in his eyes and the set of his shoulders.

"Sethos wait, don't do anything rash," Nephthys called out.

"Trust me," he called back.

Nephthys sank back down on the bed, only to return to a sitting position when Alraumon kept looking at the door. Her expression, Nephthys could now see, was troubled. She went to her.

"What is it?" Nephthys said, patting Alraumon's head gently.

"If you find a way home," Alraumon started hesitantly after a few seconds. "You will leave me."

Nephthys hugged her partner.

* * *

The storm lasted until after dinner, changing the landscape with it, everything but their hole in the ground. Nephthys hadn't mentioned their talk, and, probably to her surprise, neither had he.

Waiting in a corner of the living room, leaning against the wall, Sethos watched his apparently carefree friends. At times he really questioned just how carefree they were, but this house of safety was genuinely dulling their senses. He was to blame as well, he could've been a more active proponent for leaving – not that it would've worked – but he took it slow as well. That was about to change, he had a really bad feeling about staying.

They were preparing for the night, Ahmose lighting the hearth with a fire of source unknown. There, from a cabinet against the back wall, Hesire took a heavy chest and brought it close to the hearth, its warmth, and light. The temperature was dropping already, even though the night was still young.

Eboni came out of the kitchen, carrying a plate with some leftovers. She saw him standing alone.

"Come on sourpuss," she said. Eboni was in high spirits again. "We're starting."

"In a minute," Sethos said. "I want to breathe some fresh air."

She shrugged, as much as she could with her hands full. Sethos stepped away and in moments he was outside. He didn't want them to see his face right now. Troubled, ecstatic, he showed none of these things. It was his game face that earned distrust. And they'd be right, for he was up to something. They would not appreciate what he was about to do, indeed, what he had to do.

V-mon came out behind him. There was a wide-eyed look of concern on his face, a dead give away something was wrong. Sethos listened to the sounds inside, but they seemed normal.

"Are you sure we should do this. I'm all for a prank, but, this…"

"We have to," Sethos said. "Trust me."

"If you say so," V-mon said.

"I say so. Now, the tracks we found days ago came from the north. Nephthys didn't say, but I don't think that has changed. Find them, deliver a warning that they should stay away. Really make it convincing, but don't put yourself at risk." Sethos pointed his digivice at V-mon.

A warning would not be heeded by his friends. The beasts, whatever they were, would come. With his partner's eye witness report of the enemy he'd have no trouble convincing them to leave. It was for their own good.

Sethos fell silent, watching his partner's white glistening scales in the light leaking out from inside the house. This would be the second time he sent out his partner out alone. "Go, let's do it."

When he returned inside, after seeing Quetzalmon off, he saw Nephthys looking at him. You didn't listen to my warning; her eyes seemed to be saying. If she spoke now she could ruin everything.

"Where's V-mon?" Leormon asked.

"Out, I wanted him to fly around and see what's out there," Sethos said, not looking at Nephthys, or the frown he knew would be on her face. He hoped the play of light and shadow from the hearth masked that frown. This was not the time for explanations. "So, how large a hand will we take this night?"

Hesire opened the chest, revealing a large collection of small triangular tiles – each easily fitted in the palm of a hand. "Seven. The resonance between tiles and the need for convergence, as well as chance, seems most apt with that number for each participant."

For some reason he never called them players, and watched the stones laid like a hawk. As Sethos thought of this everyone sat down, to participate.

* * *

Quetzalmon rode the air currents of the cool night, revelling in this gift of flight. He wasn't as bothered by the cold in this form; instead the caress of the wind along his scales was a soothing presence. Free of sand – which got absolutely everywhere – and of restrictions it was a most freeing feeling. He hardly got a chance to enjoy it, but this search, for whatever was out there in the dark, gave him plenty of time to do just that.

Being out here meant missing the game, and any chances to mess with the stones. It was becoming harder and harder to do so unnoticed, which was part of the appeal he supposed. The game freaked him out though. Certain configurations of the tiles, as they were laid, made the markings glow.

He read the words 'black as night, pale is the cast of its' once as well as something quite literally a threat to his life; the bite of death in the cold night, wind against fangs.

Hesire had just smiled faintly then, and he was struck silent by it. Skelamon had chuckled, or his bones had simply rambled. He was a little less eager after that, even though Sethos had shrugged it off when he told him.

No one else had even seemed to notice. There had been no continuation of those phrases, at least not that night. Most glowing glyphs made no sense either. Perhaps he ought to ask Skelamon about it, but then, he didn't really subscribe to Skelamon's ideas of predicting the future – especially not with a game.

And he would continue to tell himself that.

Still, he was out tonight looking for something that could very well promise death. There was an odd shape ahead on the sea of sand. Quetzalmon folded his wings and dropped, opening them again when he was only a metre above ground. Sailing the low current of air he saw it for the rock it was, and lifted again. Just a false alarm.

He was beginning to think it would be a very long night, and one he might just cut off early. As liberating as flying was it was becoming monotonous. But then he heard a low howl somewhere ahead. Something else was on the prowl this night. Something with fangs.

* * *

Sethos couldn't put anything down, so he reached for the pile of tiles – turned so their blank side was facing up - to take one more stone for his growing collection. Turning it over he suppressed a sigh. Yet again he had drawn another dud he could do nothing with, until another player placed a new stone down he could work with. The markings on one edge looked promising, matching with those on the free side of one of the connected tiles on the floor, but they were reversed. His bad luck was holding for the night.

Leormon put one down, then Eboni took one from the unclaimed pile. Same with Ahmose and Plotmon. Sethos sighed; he'd have to draw another one if this went on.

"Last stone," Hesire declared as he placed the tile down. The two markings on one side glowed, as did the ones on the matching tile. Even more lit up and Hesire gave a satisfied hum. They didn't know why the tiles did that. They didn't do it all the time either. Now, as per their rules, Hesire only had a single stone left. When he got this far he hadn't lost yet. On the whole he had more wins than losses.

Suspicion gnawed at Sethos. "You aren't cheating are you?"

Hesire gave him only a calm regard, and the lifting of a single eyebrow – a most infuriating gesture.

"My partner doesn't cheat," Skelamon objected.

"How can one cheat, in this game of chance?" Hesire asked. Oh, that settled it. No one who spoke like that was on the up and up.

Sethos growled. "It is more than luck guiding your hands, or you are by far the luckiest bastard ever born."

"Language," Eboni admonished. Ahmose closed his mouth; he had been a moment behind her in voicing his own admonition.

"I don't cheat. The stones simply want to be placed," Hesire said

"What do you mean by that?" Eboni asked.

"There's something tangible about them, or haven't you felt it?" Hesire started, leaning forward. "The markings are digicode and, like hieroglyphics, each has a meaning. Put together that meaning expands."

"And what does that mean for the game?" Ahmose asked.

"He figured out a cheat," Sethos said.

"No, not a cheat," Hesire said, standing by his point. From the faces of the others no one was buying it. "But every stone placed down creates a reaction with the others. The ones still unclaimed, the ones in your hand. You just have to be observant."

"And when were you going to tell us about this?" Eboni glowered. She turned on Skelamon. "And I suppose you know of this too?"

"Well…"

Hesire spoke up. "When I was completely sure of how it works, I was going to tell you. It's not full proof, at least not yet. And your actions were all, more or less, driven by chance, creating interesting anomalies in the patterns. It's really all quite interesting. And you know, I haven't won every game."

Leormon sniggered. "We've been watching the wrong lizard all this time."

* * *

There were three of them, loping on four spindly legs, spittle dripping from their maws. Sleek and red furred and with legs wrapped in leather bands, the three were obvious predators, heading in the direction of home. Travelling merchants sometimes told of these desert raiders, these Fangmon.

_I was sent to find these beasts_, Quetzalmon thought. They didn't look like much, but Sethos had made his wishes clear, so a warning it would be. Had they been quiet he might have missed them. Ill luck, for them.

Quetzalmon dropped, calling upon his innate power. He felt no wind resistance, the winds he summoned directed all that away. He was almost upon the lead runner, still undetected by the lupine creatures, when he drew his wings back. In a heartbeat his descent stopped. A fist of wind continued, following the line laid out by his tail, to slam into the Fangmon's back.

With a startled yelp the beast sank through his legs, forced to hug the sand. He wasn't going to get up immediately. Surprised by the sudden fall the other two went right by the lead before they realized anything had happened. When they stopped to turn, Quetzalmon head-butted another, ascending again quickly while the second one slumped in a daze.

The third Fangmon opened his maw, firing a blast of dark energy in the air. Quetzalmon dodged, drawing a grey field of energy around his wings.

"Fossil Wave," he called out, and wave after wave of grey energy resonated down. The third Fangmon leapt away from it, and then opened his maw again.

Quetzalmon was ready for another blast, but instead Fangmon howled, and was answered. Not from one place, but at least five, all of them still a while off. The howling blended together, chilling Quetzalmon were the cold air had failed.

With a swipe of his tail he sent out a gust of wind, knocking the howler prone. While the three were slow in collecting themselves Quetzalmon flew away, as fast as he could.

* * *

His head down, hunched over a new hand of tiles, Sethos looked as surprised as the others when his digivice beeped. Smiling sheepishly, he stood up. "I'll be outside for a bit."

Without waiting for an answer, or questions he didn't want to answer just yet, he rushed outside. Quetzalmon was coming over the rise, glowing and decreasing in size until he dropped on the ground as V-mon, breathing heavily.

"V-mon, what happened?" Sethos said, running to his partner's position.

"I found three, and took them on. No problem, but then there were these howls. I think I've set them off. They're coming, Fangmon, beasts, a lot, a whole awful lot. And there was something more, something powerful. Did you know? What kind of warning was I to deliver?" He was babbling, and Sethos motioned for him to be quiet.

Footsteps, the others were coming to see what was happening. Sethos shushed V-mon and turned, standing between his partner and their friends.

"Sethos, can you explain what's going on?" Ahmose asked.

"I can, and I can tell you now we're in trouble. Every day Nephthys has been going out, and finding tracks of things coming in the night." Sethos said. Nephthys looked uncomfortable under the attention.

"Wasn't that only that one time?" Eboni said. She turned to the other girl. Nephthys held her eyes downcast. Sorry Nephthys, Sethos thought, but I need you to be the centre of attention right now.

"No," Nephthys said softly.

"I wanted to know what was stalking us, so I sent V-mon out to patrol. And it's a good thing I did," Sethos said, keeping up his momentum. "He found a large pack of beasts, and they are coming this way."

"Were they provoked?" Ahmose asked. V-mon gulped.

Sethos glowered. "Provoked? V-mon was just attacked!"

"I know you Sethos," Ahmose said.

"Do you know me for a liar?" Sethos said, holding his back straight and looking Ahmose in the eyes. Yes, Ahmose knew he had a tendency to scoff over little things as rationales when he thought something had to be done.

"Not that we can prove," Eboni interjected. She looked surprised when both Sethos and Ahmose levelled a glare at her.

"The provocation did not come from our side. Come on, they've been sizing us up for days. I only wish we had the chance to provoke them, perhaps even stop them in one strike. V-mon's lucky to have gotten back." Sethos said. "We have to leave, now."

"We can defend this place," Ahmose said.

"Doubtful," Hesire interjected. He seemed to be all there for a change, not thinking about his stupid ancient puzzles, but looking at the here and now and the future. If Hesire was like this, Sethos could use him.

"We're boxed in and they have the high ground," Skelamon supplied.

"Exactly what I've been saying," Sethos said.

"If we leave we'll be in the open, at least here there is shelter, as well as food and water," Plotmon said.

"We'd have a head start," Leormon said.

Eboni took a step to Nephthys; the girl stood shivering in her dress. "Nephthys, do you think we can make it out there?"

Without the robes lying in her room the night was bone chilling. Sethos felt pumped, able to ignore the chill. While Eboni rubbed the other girl's arms, to bring some heat in them, he implored her with his eyes.

"I think so," she said. "It's risky, but so is staying."

"We'd run out of food eventually. If we pack what we have now and quickly we can march the whole night and stay ahead of the beasts V-mon saw," Hesire said.

Ahmose shook his head. "I don't like it."

"Neither do I. I'd rather leave at a time of our choosing, but we'd have to leave eventually. Might as well be now," Hesire said.

"The trip here nearly killed us," Eboni said.

"And it'll get more dangerous. We'd have to go south to avoid them. These beasts might be the desert raiders I've heard about in Burner. They make their territory to the north. To the south there are villages and the Temple of Life but we'd have to pass through, or walk around, the great Desolation to reach it," Plotmon said.

"Where we head we can discuss on the road. We have to hurry," Sethos said. He found it hard to keep from smiling as they agreed. One day they'd thank him for this, though if V-mon and Nephthys kept their mouths shut they'd never need to know.

* * *

With the moon shining brightly in a starlit sky bestial shapes materialized one by one over the rise, poised over the edge and looking down into the pit. They had the place firmly surrounded, with eyes that would see any undue movements below.

Sleek coyote forms and more burly wolves raced down the steps, unopposed by anything from the compound. Once below they sniffed and approached the building warily. One went inside, then two. Others climbed to the second floor, entering there as well.

The circle howled, a sound of respect and a sound of warning. Walking on two legs, the night breeze ruffled his worn pants, the pack's alpha leapt over the edge, disdainful of the steps. He landed with bent knees, and rose just as fast as he had dropped.

One of the Fangmon exited the house, whispering to a Garurumon. It was the wolf who turned to him. "There's no one inside."

"They can't have gone far," Were Garurumon said, showing his teeth. "Find them, hound them to exhaustion. No prey escapes the Pack."


End file.
